Thief: Paths of Balance
by leper73
Summary: Garrett attempted to retire, and live out his life pulling low-level, risk-free jobs. But a chance meeting allows him to train a new den of thieves to plague The City's nobility. Starts between TMA and DS, will run parallel to DS, and continues after DS.
1. Episode 1: The First Apprentice Arrives

THIEF

THIEF

PATHS OF BALANCE

Episode 1: The First Disciple Arrives

Music, laughter, and wine filled the City streets on this day, the one day of the year the peasantry actually appreciated and respected the lords and nobles of The City. Nobility Day was originally conceived as a gesture of thanks toward the Baron and the banks for establishing and maintaining the upper classes' extravagant lifestyles, but it inevitably became a City-wide festival for those of all financial and social standing to partake at the nobility's expense, and, after the most recent hard times befallen The City, one of the few means of entertainment left for the vast majority of citizens to enjoy. Feasts were provided on tables spanning the length of an entire marketplace, banners of The City's nobility displayed their master's crest and colors in every window in their district, and the guard forces of each house matched skills with each other in contests of archery, swordsmanship, strength and speed, as the working class population stood on, contentedly sipping a cup of wine and cheering on the house of their favorite lord. Street vendors still hawked their wares, though they called for business with bouncy jubilation, rather than the usual trepidation that a lack of profit would mean an inability to feed their families. Even the City Watch patrolled the event with a vibrant happiness and greeted revelers with a smile. While most in The City took Nobility Day as a time to escape the tension of daily life and fear of crime and hardship in a time and place of physical danger and financial trouble, pliers of one substantial trade saw it as an opportunity for quite lucrative business.

The boy leaned on the base of the great statue, and gazed upwards at his source of inspiration. Before every robbery, he drew his strength and courage from this controversial statue. Some considered _him_ a hero, having saved The City on at least two occasions. _He_ was especially popular among the lower classes, with the many stories circulating about _his_ escapades inside the homes of the wealthy, resulting in a "redistribution" of wealth. For this reason, _he_ was despised by the majority of the nobility, who regarded _him_ as nothing more than a common thief. Lord Bafford was particularly known for his hatred of _him_, and had lobbied before the City Council to have the statue torn down. While the statue remained standing, one alteration was made upon request by the Baron and at the protest of no one. In _his_ outstretched hand, lay the remnants of a gear, the only part of the icon remaining still cemented to the palm. The statue was meant to commemorate _his_ role in bringing about the Metal Age, but once The City learned the truth about the Mechanists, they were all too eager to erase this part of their history. To the delight of the nobility, the statue itself almost did come down for this reason, but once rumors surfaced that _he_ was responsible for stopping the demented plans, just as _he_ had defeated their enemies a year earlier, it was allowed to stay. The boy took one last look at _him_ and moved toward the crowd.

The boy could not enjoy Nobility Day the way most of The City's inhabitants did. As large as they were, the feasts still accommodated a limited number of people, and even sleeping on the streets all night, he could not find a place at the table, and even if he could, he could not risk a previous victim or City Watch officer recognizing him. Though vendors lowered prices for the day, food in the market still cost money, something he did not have. There was time still for the boy to walk away with a full belly, but first he must walk away with a full purse. Luckily, today provided the best opportunity he would have all year. As bad as times were, people still managed to put together tremendous loads of money on Nobility Day for various trinkets in the marketplaces and pawnshops (the boy found this especially bewildering, since these trinkets almost immediately found their way back into these exact same shops when their owners needed money to pay the rent or buy food). Revelers would be so lost in the merriment of the feasts and excitement of the games that they would not notice, or even care, that they were missing a purse. The City Watch would present little trouble. Even the by-the-book Sheriff Mosley loosened her uptight ways once every year. The only service the Watch performed on this day occurred after the festivities as they removed the remaining drunkards from the city streets as the Department of Public Works cleaned up the rest of the debris. As long as he did not make any blatantly stupid mistakes, he should walk away unscathed and at least temporarily richer.

The boy moved to a relatively dark, isolated area under a roof and began to scout for potential targets. Even with the lax security, he could not get near the nobles. Aside from the fact that they all sat in the great plazas in full view of the entire city, even today they would notice a missing purse and ensure that he ended up on the gallows or the stocks and pillory. The boy scanned the crowd until his eyes came upon a dark cloaked figure winding through the hordes away from the hysteria into an alley. He moved rather swiftly, but still appeared to be an older man, one who would not put up much of a fight should the robbery turn bad. He walked with a paranoid step, determined to avoid contact with anyone. The boy glimpsed a rather large purse on the old man's belt. He drew a crooked dagger from his belt and advanced on his victim.

The boy followed the old man through a dark, twisting alley. When he passed the last of the drunkards and beggars, and was sure nobody could come to the old man's aid, he charged forward reaching for the purse with his left hand while brandishing the dagger with his right. He could see the old man turn his head slightly, but he had no time to escape. Suddenly, the old man dropped from his view, and the boy felt a shoulder clip into his shins. The ground rushed up to his face, and suddenly went blue. A split second after the boy realized he was on his back looking up at the sky, the old man's head appeared over him, his eyes still hidden under his hood. The boy turned his head to see his dagger a few inches from his face. By the time his mind processed this thought, a boot shot into the picture, sending the dagger clattering across the street. The boy looked back up to see another blade resting on his jugular, that of a sword. A voice cold as ice and hard as granite issued forth from the old man's lips. "Did someone send you to kill me," he inquired as he leaned forward to confront his assailant "or do you just have a death wish?" The boy looked up at the old man's face. He wasn't particularly old, but he wasn't young either. He seemed to hold a certain wisdom, the wisdom of the streets, that could only derive from the same life experiences the boy grew up with. His demeanor seemed calm, he had obviously survived countless others' blades and arrows in the past. A mixture of amusement, inquiry, anger, and hate danced in his eyes…or was that…his eye. His right eye was obviously a fake, with a dull metallic gray iris, covered by a glass lens, in which swam a bluish-green fluid. The boy had heard of this eye, its origin one of the most famous stories in The City. Only one had ever been made, and the recipient had later killed its creator. The boy instantly realized he had made a possibly fatal mistake, yet simultaneously marveled at finally learning the legends were real. It was _him_.

"You! Y…you're…you're Garrett!" the boy stammered. The man kept his cold, hard stare on the boy in his good eye, while his mechanical eye projected a chillingly similar hostility. "You do exist!" "Hmph. I guess you just have a death wish," Garrett replied, slightly easing the pressure from his blade once he realized his assailant was not an assassin sent by one of The City's many inhabitants who would spare no expense to see him dead. Garrett looked down on the boy. He was a tall, skinny youth, around two or three years younger than he when he attempted his fateful pickpocketing on his eventual mentor. He had attractive features, longish blond hair, and pale blue eyes, which, though frightened, held a strong sense of determination and will. "Please," the boy said, "Don't kill me. I had no idea it was you. Please, Mr. Garrett, sir, it's Nobility Day. I'm just a pickpocket trying to survive. In fact, I'm a lot like you."

"Oh, really?" inquired Garrett, with a tinge of venom upon hearing of the day celebrating those he continuously victimized.

"Yes. You see, my name is Harlan. Just like you, I lost my parents as a young child, and had to live on the streets. Every day, I live off of what I can steal, and when I can't steal gold directly, I'm not guaranteed I will get paid the worth of my loot. I've heard the stories about you around the fires. Your life was very similar until you became a master thief, when you met your teacher." Suddenly a thought crossed Harlan's mind, one that could possibly save his life, in his future as a thief as well as at this very moment under Garrett's sword. "Hey! Why don't you teach me? I can carry on your legacy in The City!"

At this, Garrett pressed his sword even harder against Harlan's throat. "You must really have a death wish," he grumbled.

"Please wait and listen," Harlan urged. "When you received your training, you left this life. You stopped living cold, hungry, and scared that all you worked hard to steal that day could be snatched from you in your sleep, or another thief would put a dagger in your side, or one mistake and you would end up in Prisongate or Cragscleft. I'm sick of living that life, especially when the nobility only gets richer and richer. Every time I see them walk by with their newest silk cape imported from Cyric, when they hit me on the head with their jeweled scepters, when I walk outside the gates of their mansions and look up in the windows and see all they have, all that space that the average person in The City, let alone a street urchin like me could only dream of, all that food that can feed so many starving children, and I get so mad I can think of nothing better than to walk around in those mansions, in every beautiful room, and take all those stupid vases and jewels and fancy silverware they spend their money on, just like you did. And today, Nobility Day! The day people celebrate the fact that a few people in The City who kiss the Baron's hand get rewarded with money and a seat in the City Council. The nobility puts out all these feasts and games and throws around their money to show everyone just how great they are while I can't enjoy any of it because I'm just a damn thief! I want to make them pay. And if I learn from you, the greatest thief The City has ever known, I know I will."

"Forget it," Garrett replied as he finally sheathed his sword. "I'm retired. I'm not teaching anybody. I do steal occasionally to make ends meet, but I'm through creeping through the sprawling mansions. Every time I do, I learn something major is going to happen in The City unless I stop it, or someone comes after me, and then I have to be a hero, and people have to build things like that." Garrett points down the alley in the direction of the gigantic statue. "That's not me, and I don't want that kind of recognition and responsibility anymore. Besides, if you get mixed up with me, chances are you will have a very short life. Everyone, from the nobility to the City Watch to the Hammerites to the City Wardens, not to mention every other thief in The City wants me dead. And those who trained me are going to make me do something huge some day soon. And I made a promise to myself I won't let anyone else get mixed up in it."

Harlan sprang to his feet as soon as Garrett returned his sword to its sheath. His light blue eyes still burned with intense ambition, and now he aimed it directly at his hero, inches from his face. "I don't care. My life can end just as easily out here on the street from starvation or disease as from a blade or arrow in the throat. I'll take my chances against guards, where people can at least say, 'he died standing up to the nobility and making a statement against their greed,' just like they said about you. I could go on picking pockets rather than breaking into mansions, I'd be a thief either way. But aside from the thrill, I would feel much more justified taking money from fat merchants who exploit their workers and abuse their servants than from a poor commoner who did work hard to earn a living, only to have what little he made snatched away from him.

"Besides, you say you're retired, but you have to keep stealing. You want to quit, to leave it all, but because there's hardly any money in The City since the First City Bank and Trust collapsed, the thief in you keeps pulling you back in whenever you need to pay your rent. As much as you want to, you can't stay away, and you know it will get you killed. I can make sure that doesn't happen. If you train me, what you want I get. You'll never set foot in another mansion again, you'll get a solid share of what I take, and neither of us will be hungry again.

"I have one more reason you should take me in. I know why you didn't retire years ago. You could have easily pulled off 'the big one,' cleaned out the richest lord in The City, and retired in style. But you wanted fame, not just fortune. You wanted thieves to gather around their fires on the streets and in the back rooms of pawnshops and tell stories of Garrett the master thief who plagued The City's inner circle, crept through the halls of the extravagant mansions, outwitted the toughest guards, and stole the rarest, most secure treasures ever known to man. You accomplished this, and so much more, when you saved The City from both the Trickster and Karras. But now, what else is there to do? What else can you steal that people will tell stories about? How else are you going to save The City? Maybe that's why you still take the occasional job. If you train me, your stories will continue. You will go from master thief to master teacher. The thieves' tales will still be told, but the new chapters will be about how you trained the second-greatest thief in the history of The City. You will continue to plague the nobility, only by releasing a new breed of thief into their homes and after their trinkets. I can help you live on!"

Garrett stood and stared in astonishment. No matter what he said or did, this boy was not leaving unless he received a positive response. Personal history aside, he and Harlan did share many traits. They both loathed the nobility and lived for the act of taking both their possessions and their dignity. Like Garrett in his youth, Harlan had great potential that only a mentor could truly unleash. Garrett thought he had lost everyone in that crowd, yet this youth selected him, of all people, and tracked him to this alley to rob him. Had he fully understood the concept of stealth, the purse on his belt would have been merely a memory. And his determination was only further sharpened and supported by his astuteness. Garrett actually found it frightening that Harlan was able to get inside his mind. Nobody else had ever been able to read him with such accuracy except for the Keepers. For these reasons, Garrett decided he would much rather have Harlan as an ally than an adversary should their paths ever cross again. Furthermore, he was intrigued at the idea of an upgrade from thief to thieves-pawn, a profession that could see more money and less nightly risk. Finally, it was obvious that unless he gave the boy a chance, only one of them would leave the alley alive.

"Okay," Garrett said as he turned to walk down the corridor, "I'll train you, but only if you agree to abide by my rules. First, you will obey everything I say. If I say to steal something, you will steal it. If I tell you to kill someone, you will kill them. Second, you will only complete projects I give you. No…extracurricular activities. That's how you get the attention of the City Watch or the Hammers. Third, I will receive 30 of the profits from all jobs, subject to change at my discretion. Finally, you will work only with my associates. If you go to any fence or intermediate outside my contacts, or let anyone else know of my existence, I will kill you. Do you understand?"

"Yes," Harlan replied. "I'm willing to do everything I can to become the greatest thief since you." He spied a drunken man waddling down the street singing a traditional City tune. He turned to Garrett excitedly. "Let me show you what I can do. I'll just grab my dagger and…"

"I've already seen what you can do when you attacked me," Garrett interrupted. You have to learn my way of thievery, otherwise that will happen every time. Right now you are not a thief; you are a robber."

"What's the difference?"

Garrett rolled his eye in frustration. "You have potential, and a desire to learn, I can see that. But you are obviously not ready to work for me. You don't even know the difference between stealing and robbing. Anyone can be a robber. Anyone can just hold a dagger to a defenseless man and force them to give you their money. Your… 'technique' is a disgrace to a fine and delicate art. True thievery, on the other hand, requires finesse, patience, and skill. The first thing you must learn is stealth. Your victim should never see or hear you under any circumstances."

"I understand," replied Harlan sheepishly. He did not tell Garrett that for his last "job," he accosted a minstrel with his own lute and made off with the money he made singing love ballads. "I think I can sneak up on that man over there. I just have to stay in the shadows to avoid being seen, and move slowly enough so he won't hear my footsteps on the cobblestone." Harlan slunk into the shadows projected by the setting sun. He gradually crept up on the drunkard with a silent gait. At a foot from his unwitting victim, Garrett's voice broke his intensity in the silent, dead air. "Hey!" he called just as he was reaching for the purse. The drunkard jerkily turned toward Harlan, who quickly shoved him down with a hand to the face and flew down the alley. When he realized nobody was pursuing him, he crouched in a doorway, bewildered. After a few minutes, Garrett joined his flustered, outraged student. "That was very good, you mastered stealth with almost no instruction from me. But could you have picked an easier target? Come on, it's Nobility Day. If you want to become a master thief, you must steal like one. No more amateur targets. From now on, you will only go after the big fish. And seeing what today is, they're all gathered in one place. Let's go get one." Garrett and Harlan turned back down the alley and at the edge of the Stonemarket square holding the evening's festivities.

Above the crowds, Harlan could see the banners of The City's lords and ladies flapping above the thrones upon which they sat, presiding over the throngs of peasants gathered in their names. He turned to Garrett, who began surveying the banners, reading for targets. "Lord Bafford, Lord Gervaisius, Lord Rumford, Lord Van Vernon, Lord Toby, Sir Christopher, Lady Caughlin, Lord Church…" Garrett recited the names of the nobility as if he were reading the menu at the feast table. Finally, his finger came to rest upon the red-and-gold banner of Lord Bassel, and he recited the name with a definite sense of finality. "Notice the crown on his head, engraved with that 'B' in sapphire between every jewel. He had that made so he could show it off today. He took half of the pay from the serfs on his farms and the workers in his factories to buy that crown. You starved so he could wear that today." Harlan needed no more encouragement. In fact, Garrett's speech provided a little too much encouragement as Harlan emitted a furious scream and dashed forward to elbow his way through the crowd and would have gone to snatch the crown directly in front of Bassel's eyes had Garrett not grabbed him by the back of his cloak and flung him back into the alley. "This test is to see if I taught you anything." Garrett said. "Apparently, you haven't learned as much as I thought you have. Stick to what you did to that drunken taffer in the alley. Stealth and silence are the key."

When Harlan regained his composure, he dissolved into the shadows and slowly navigated his way towards Lord Bassel's throne. Despite the immense crowds, he did not have to become truly invisible until he reached the nobles' area; at the moment he merely needed to blend into the crowd. He knew he would be noticed if he collided with someone directly, so he shifted his weight with anyone who brushed up against him. Once he reached the upper class' thrones, he quickly dashed behind them, and moved in towards Bassel, crouching behind the podium upon which the seats rested. When he saw an arm clad in red silk deposit the crown to its right on the table, Harlan quickly mantled up onto the podium. His landing produced a slight sound on the hollow wooden structure. "Hello? Is there anybody there?" came the weak voice of a nobleman accustomed to servants and guards doing everything for him save chewing his food. Harlan crouched back down and leaned forward slightly, anticipating a hasty escape. Fortunately, seconds later, Lord Bassel declared, "Guess it was nothing." Harlan began to stand back up, until he was eye level with the table and the crown. He saw that Bassel was fixated on some jugglers performing in the square, lost in his own thoughts, mumbling about the rat problem that even plagued Nobility Day. It was now or never. Harlan guided a trembling hand to the customized crown on the table.

"Hey, you! What do you think you're doing?" boomed a voice directly behind him. Harlan did not even need to hear the words. The commanding tone and touch of cocky triumph projected the unmistakable voice of a guard. He heard the guard unsheathe his sword and stomp up on the platform. He had not picked up his dagger after his attack on Garrett, and even if he had, the ancient blade would have been no use against this weapon of war the guard wielded. Harlan's hand quickly moved to the left, from the crown to a nearby bottle of wine. He would only have one chance, and he could not turn around for it, less he lose his head. "That's it, you're..." As soon Harlan heard the guard's voice again, he swung the bottle directly back over his head toward its source. The bottle shattered over the guard's head, sending him sprawling backwards into the mud behind him. A second guard, standing in front of Bassel, turned around to investigate. With no more weapons available, Harlan struck the second guard in the face, sending him flying over the table and into the crowd. Surprised by the incident, uninhibited by the ale, and violent by nature, the drunken revelers in the front of the crowd ran forward to investigate, bumping and shoving each other out of the way. The peasants inevitably struck each other in the face, leading to further violence. When he regained his balance, the second guard attempted to hold back the brawling crowd, but he merely became the recipient of more blows. The peasants spilled back behind the podium as well, attacking the first guard and his associates who by that time had come to investigate his noisy fall. As the wave of anarchy spread throughout the crowd, the City Watch marched into their midst to stem the riot. With everyone distracted and fearing for their lives, Harlan once again saw a tremendous opportunity to grab the crown. This time, as he reached, his hand connected with that of Lord Bassel. Both grabbed the crown, and both simultaneously dropped it. Harlan quickly spun Bassel's chair around and pushed the nobleman out to the ground. He quickly looked back to see a red-faced Bassel, his expensive red silk robe sullied with mud, screaming for his guard force. "Stop him! Thief!" However, as the guards were trained, they immediately descended upon Bassel in a circle to protect their master. Harlan noticed that amidst the chaos, other guards were doing the same to their lords. He quickly grabbed the crown, as well as various other coins, jewels, and trinkets that the guards and nobles had neglected and slid under the table. He crawled along under the table briefly, then, pretending to be struck, tumbled off the podium to the ground. He crawled on his forearms, using fallen bodies as shields and camouflage, until he came to the nearest alley. Finding a shadow, he spun to his feet and raced inside unnoticed.

Harlan had escaped the brouhaha he had caused, but he still needed to meet Garrett. Luckily, the life of a street urchin allowed him to navigate the alleys and side roads of The City with automatic ease. Unfortunately, he could not control who he ran into. Crossing an intersection, Harlan heard that voice again. "You won't get away this time, thief! I'm taking your hands as a trophy!" Turning, Harlan saw the first guard he attacked with the wine bottle. His face was cut from the broken glass, his black hair under his helmet was matted with wine and blood, and his eyes burned with the darkest hatred he had ever seen. Not wasting time thinking about any path or skill, Harlan immediately took off down the road. Despite the advantage of not wearing heavy armor, the money and goods Harlan stole weighed him down. Having been trained to pursue and eliminate any target, the guard swiftly began gaining on him. Luckily, Harlan eventually passed a ladder. Leaping backwards, he caught it in both hands and began to climb. Once he reached the roof, he began to run again. He leapt from rooftop to rooftop at godlike speed. Eventually, he came to rest in an arch to inspect the area. As he caught his breath, he realized he had no idea how to meet back up with Garrett. Surely he left their meeting place after the riot broke out. At least he was able to steal a decent haul today. As he looked down, he noticed the figure of the guard running down the alley, screaming obscenities up at him. He took one more deep breath and continued on, but noticed that the guard was running almost exactly alongside him down below. Eventually he came to a gap in the rooftops too large to jump, with a ladder down below. Harlan gave thought to climbing down, but as he hung his leg over, the guard sprang up and grabbed his foot. He struggled to free his leg, but the guard hung on with an iron grip, pulling himself up the ladder. He took several swings at Harlan's leg with his sword, but each time, he was able to kick out of range. Soon, the guard mantled up onto the roof. Harlan attempted to push him over, but the momentum sent both nearly tumbling over the edge. The guard stuck his foot in an uneven spot in the roof to stop his slide downward, but Harlan barely managed to grab onto the overhang, and dangled three stories up in the air. He looked up to see the red-eyed guard standing over him, his sword raised to thrust a final blow into his skull. "Say goodnight taffer!" he roared. Suddenly Harlan heard a dull thud and the guard fell forward. As he spilled over the edge, Harlan managed to swing his legs onto the ladder. The guard managed to briefly grasp his torso before losing consciousness and hitting the ground with a solid crash. Harlan began to fall backwards before a firm hand gripped his arm and yanked him back onto the roof. He peered over the edge to see the guard lying spread eagle on the ground, a small puddle of blood forming about his head, and then looked up to see Garrett with a blackjack in his hand.

"Did you kill him?" Harlan asked.

"Probably not, but it doesn't really matter," replied Garrett. "You did well for your first real job. Not the prettiest I've ever seen, but you made a good sneak, and you managed to get the loot and then some. I'll only get a share of the crown. Anything else you steal is yours. Anyway, I'll put you up somewhere tonight. Meet me in the bell tower at midnight."

Later that night, Harlan looked down over The City from the bell tower. Garrett had to show up. Why would he put him through all that and make him steal all he did and then not arrive to claim his share of the profits? Sure enough, Garrett flung the door open and emerged from the spiral staircase leading up to the massive bell. "Welcome to the Thieves' Highway," he announced. This is a great area for burglary, as well as the path you will take to your new home. Follow me." Harlan followed Garrett over rooftops, balconies, and even through apartments and estates (where he pilfered even more valuables) until they climbed a ladder to a massive, imposing, yet decrepit structure. "You'll be living here," Garrett said.

"The old Mechanist Tower?" asked Harlan.

"Yes, Angelwatch," Garrett retorted. "Nobody will look for you here." After the events of the Metal Age, when the Baron learned the truth about Karras' plans to bring about the Builder's Paradise, he quickly outlawed the Mechanist religion. The Eastport Seminary was razed to the ground, and the massive tower was ransacked and pillaged. All Mechanist symbols and statues were destroyed, and only the enormous stature of the building prevented it from being condemned. Soulforge Cathedral still stood sealed, but the inhabitants of The City were too scared to touch it. Rumors persisted that the Builder's Children still patrolled the rust-covered fortress, and on some nights, people have sworn they have heard them clanking about. The ghost of Karras himself was said to inhabit the cathedral, moving about in the rust, waiting to be unleashed upon the world. For these reasons, nobody dared break the seal. "You won't find anything valuable there, though," Garrett warned. "I cleaned them out a long time ago." He opened a trap door and told Harlan to step inside. "This will take you to the second floor," he said. You can have the tower to yourself. Nobody will bother you here. I'll be back tomorrow with your money and a new job for you." As Harlan jumped inside and shut the opening, Garrett made his way back to the bell tower. After exiting Lady Louisa's suite, he heard a commotion in the building ahead of him, and a noisemaker arrow came down from above. Garrett readied a broadhead arrow and mantled up into the room to confront his baiter.

"So, you have an apprentice now." Garrett turned to see two figures emerge from the shadows in similar black cloaks, yet Garrett recognized the keyhole rings on their fingers. "I remember teaching you those same techniques." "I tried to keep him away," Garrett responded shamefully. "I don't want him to ever cross paths with you. Remember what happened to me when I followed you, Keeper Marcus." The second figure laughed, before reassuring him. "Don't worry, Garrett. What we need involves you and you alone, yet the glyphs might have a role for your student. Keeper Nate and I have come to tell you about some important developments within the Keeper Council.

"The glyphs tell of an impending dark age," Keeper Nate announced.

"The Trickster?"

"We're not sure. But whoever, or whatever it is, it looks to be a great menace. Right now, we seem to be faced with more of a challenge than either the Trickster or the Mechanists presented. All we know is that it's coming soon, and we will need you badly."

"Need me to do what?" inquired Garrett.

"Like we said, we don't know yet," Keeper Nate responded. "Even the Keeper Council is split over what role you should play, if any at all."

"Some even think you yourself will bring about the Dark Age," Keeper Marcus added. "But some of us believe that you are the chosen one to prevent it. Second Keeper Orland has proposed allowing you full access to all Keeper libraries to prevent this dark age, something I support fully, as I believe that my former student is the only one who can preserve the balance in The City."

"The renegade who is both brethren and betrayer," said Garrett, reliving the writings about him in the Chronicle of the Metal Age. "How long until you need me?"

"We don't know, but soon," Keeper Nate replied. We will let you know. Until then, we will keep you informed." The two Keepers turned the corner and disappeared from view. With his mind heavy with the pressure of both Harlan and the Keepers, Garrett dropped back onto the roof and started back on the Thieves' Highway bathed in the moonlight.


	2. Episode 2: Rite of Passage

Episode 2: Rite of Passage

Episode 2: Rite of Passage

The setting sun ducked behind the control tower, turning the sky a dull gray, much like the tower itself and the surrounding buildings of the City Reservoir. The Hammerite patrolman stood on an observation deck and watched the water rush from the openings in the wall into the pool below. Luckily, his patrol route included the reservoir, but if anyone observed this meeting, he could risk excommunication, and possibly even imprisonment in the facility he occasionally guarded. A cracking noise sounded behind him, and he whirled around to see the splintered shaft of a broadhead arrow. "By the Builder's hand!" he exclaimed, "I shall find thee and crush thee!" When he turned around again, a blackjack descended on him, stopping inches from his head. His assailant stepped from the shadows, a grin on his face. "Would've had ya," he said, as the Hammerite expressed his annoyance.

"In the name of the Prophet Jeremyn, Garrett!" the Hammerite exclaimed. "I thought thou sawest me as a friend. Now thou tryest to kill me?"

"Calm down, Brother Adrian," Garrett replied. "I was just testing your reflexes. You still need some work." Despite knowing each other for many years, Garrett often greeted Brother Adrian in this manner. They first met in the catacombs beneath the great Temple of the Hammer during the Pagan invasion. Grateful for his having saved the High Priest from the Trickster's minions and foiling his Dark Project, Brother Adrian remained one of the few individuals Garrett could consider a friend. Every week, they met at the reservoir where Brother Adrian would fill Garrett in on affairs within the Hammerite Order, City administration, and the efforts of those hunting him. However, few other Hammers remembered the events of the Dark Project firsthand. For this reason, the Order of the Hammer would consider both individuals as treacherous criminals should they learn of these meetings.

"So, whatever happened to the other Mechanists?" Garrett asked.

"Most hath fled The City," Brother Adrian replied. "We believe they hath settled 'neath the earth, in that great passageway on the edge of The City." This unsettled Garrett slightly. He often passed by that marble doorway built into the rock with the Mechanist Gear above it. Rumors abounded that the remaining Mechanist clergy and order fled to an underground sanctuary, where they continue to construct their machinery and plan for the day they will once again take The City and prepare for the Builder's arrival. "We hath welcomed back some of the novitiate, but most of those we hath detained were sent to Cragscleft. Now they labor in the factories, 'neath the punishment of the heretic."

"Have any…asked about me?" Garrett inquired.

"Some speak of a master thief who hath slain their leader Karras. They do chant of the day they exact retribution on the one who refused the Builder's Paradise. They do not mention thee by name, but the tales of the sabotage at Soulforge canst only suggest thou weret responsible."

"Normally, I don't brag to Hammers," Garrett said. "But if you want to hear how…business is going…."

"Nay, speak not of thy sins," Brother Adrian admonished. "Thou knowest 'twould be an offense to mine Order and mine Builder shouldst I overlook a crack in a wall."

"Alright," said Garrett. "Listen, I have a favor to ask you. I'm looking after someone, and I'd hate myself if anything happened to him. If I told you who he was, could you keep the rest of the Hammers away from him?"

"Nay, Garrett, I canst not make such promises," Brother Adrian replied. "Though I consider thee a friend, I canst not turn my back on the Builder, lest I be torn down like a rotting shed. The Tenets of the Master Builder state that thievery is a sin, and thieves must be punished. Shouldst I catch thine apprentice or even thee in the act of thievery, I must dispense justice forthright."

"I never said he was my apprentice," said Garrett. "But I guess you'll never be able to meet him." Garrett jumped over the railing, scaled down the wall, and disappeared on the entrance as he reached the street level.

Garrett entered Angelwatch via the second-floor passageway and took the elevator down to the main concourse. He called for Harlan, but received no response. He wandered over to the pillars on the sides of the room, and looked around for his student. Just behind his head, he heard the sound of a footstep on marble, and he swiftly turned around, grabbed Harlan from the slanted pillar leading to the rafters, and threw him on the floor. "You're getting better," he remarked. "If it was anyone else, you would've had him. But remember, there's a reason people call me the world's greatest thief. Besides, I found that passageway in the rafters years ago."

Once again, Harlan gazed straight up to see an upside-down view of Garrett standing over him with his sword bearing down on him. This time, however, he could see a smile underneath the hood, and suddenly Garrett turned his sword around, extending the handle to his pupil. "Take this," Garrett urged. "You're ready to try real burglary, so you're going to need real tools." Jubilation and fear spread across Harlan's face. "Are you sure?" he asked as he grasped the sword and pulled himself to his feet. "Are you ready to give me this?"

"I don't need it anymore," Garrett replied. "I've always found swords bulky and heavy, and besides, I'm a thief, not a warrior. I've tried swordfighting before, and did not make out well. If I ever have to kill someone again, it's going to be with this." Garrett reached into his cloak and pulled a small dagger from his belt. "Not as useful in a straight fight, but that's not what you're looking for in this business."

"If you're going to use a dagger, shouldn't you train me to use a dagger too?" Harlan inquired.

"No, you're going to learn with a sword," Garrett answered firmly. "You have talent, but you're still an amateur. As such, you will need as much protection as you can get. At this point, you will need to fight eventually. I'd rather you have everything possible to protect yourself."

Understanding the logic behind Garrett's explanation, Harlan realized the first thing his master had said. "You say I'm ready for burglary?"

"I believe you are. You picked off Lord Bassel's crown in a very difficult environment, and were able to think on your toes. What you have shown me in the shadows here has demonstrated that you understand the concept of stealth and can master the art. Now it's time for your rite of passage. You are going to take the fight to the nobility's home turf. You are going to infiltrate a guarded mansion and steal a little trinket for me."

Harlan's eyes lit up at the prospect of finally fulfilling his dream of humiliating the wealthiest elements of The City who exploited and oppressed him and thousands like him. "I'm ready," he said definitively. "What am I going to steal, and who am I going to steal it from?"

"You're going over to Lady Waterdike's tonight," Garrett replied. "Your prize is a crystal vase, the envy of every other lady in Dayport. Supposedly, every noblewoman in The City can only talk about that vase, and how Waterdike beat them to it. I say we give them some cold comfort by assuring that nobody owns it."

Garrett reached into the bag he had brought with him and produced an array of armaments and gadgets. "You'll need more than that sword," he said. "I'll show you what other…friends a thief has." He reached into the pile and produced a blackjack. "Under the best circumstances, you won't need to use any of this, but if you absolutely must take out a guard, this should be your first line of defense. Silent, and no bloody mess or guilty conscience." When Harlan had stowed the blackjack, Garrett once again hunted through the pile, next handing him a bow. "For eliminating potential threats and enemies who can't strike back. I must say, though, try to avoid using it when there is more than one guard. You may take out one of the targets, but you'll give away your position doing it. If you absolutely have to take on a group, kill any archers first. If you stay hidden in the shadows, the swordsmen won't find you, and they'll just wander around while you pump arrows into their throats. As for the arrows themselves," Garrett continued as he produced a group of arrows with large, sharp tips, "these are broadheads. They are for killing. They can also be used to make some noise if you want to create a distraction." Garrett rummaged through the pile again, pulling out a series of arrows with clear blue tips. "Next, we have your water arrows. As the name implies, the tips are water crystals. They are best used for putting out torches to create shadows. You can also clean up blood that may give away your position." Garrett then lifted out a series of arrows with murky brownish-green tips. "These are moss arrows. If you ever find yourself walking on metal grating or tile, just shoot some of these beauties on the floor. You can traverse the room without making a sound." Garrett hunted through the pile again before handing Harlan a series of arrows with strange metallic devices at the end. "Here are some noisemaker arrows. Shoot one of these, and it will click and chirp like mad. It will get the guards worked up into a frenzy. Then you can…"

"Wait," Harlan interrupted. "You always talk about the importance of stealth, and how not to make a sound. Why in the world would I need a noisemaker arrow to deliberately attract a guard's attention?"

"I used to think the same way," Garrett replied. You'll know when to use this. Believe me, it's more helpful than you think." Garrett held out the last remaining batch of arrows, which glowed bright orange at the end. "Finally, we have fire arrows. These are absolutely deadly. But they are also loud; they echo throughout the entire manor. And if you misfire, you can burn yourself badly. Be careful with these. That's all I have as far as arrows. However, there are some other important tools…like these. Lock picks. There are some new teeth and patterns that were cast within the last few years. This should make lockpicking and safecracking easier than in my day." Garrett next handed Harlan a pair of gloves. "I haven't tried these out yet, but I hear they work well. Used to be, if you wanted to climb somewhere, you'd shoot a rope arrow into the ceiling and scale the rope. But those were fragile and expensive to make. Now, we use these climbing gloves. You should be able to scale a wall with these. Finally, I'll give you some flash bombs. If you know you can't kill a guard with your sword, throw this down and it will blind him. Then run like hell." Garrett reached into the pile one more time and produced three vials of a yellow fluid. "Healing potions. Use these in emergencies only. You'll know when you're wounded badly enough to need them. Just don't look for trouble, and you shouldn't have to waste them."

"Aren't there invisibility potions?" Harlan asked. "I know I heard of a potion that made you invisible. And one that you drink when you're falling to slow you down so you don't get hurt."

"They don't make those anymore," Garrett said. "Those were created by Pagan magic. Now, with the Pagans weakened after the events of the Metal Age, their smugglers haven't been able to bring any more into The City. But what I gave you is more than enough. We'll leave for Waterdike's in two hours. Relax and plan your strategies. This will prove if you can truly be a thief."

Lady Waterdike's manor was only a few rooftops and balconies away from the abandoned tower. Garrett led Harlan along the Thieves' Highway until they dropped from a ledge onto the roof of their target's house. "Waterdike's master bedroom with the vase is right below us," said Garrett. "But getting in is not going to be that easy."

"What's the best way in?" Harlan asked.

"If I told you, we can't see your true skill," Garrett responded. "You have to find your own way in."

"But what happens if I…" Harlan looked up, but the rooftop was empty. "This is it," Harlan mumbled to himself, as he dropped onto the balcony leading to Waterdike's room.

The balcony was flanked on both sides by a walkway guards used to circle the mansion to scour for intruders. Harlan knew he had to open the door quickly. He reached for the handle and heard an abrupt click. Off in the distance came the sound of approaching footsteps nearing the balcony. Harlan rummaged through his loot bag until he produced the triangle-toothed lock pick Garrett had given to him earlier. He stuck the pick in the keyhole and started to turn, but was greeted with a sharp click. He could hear the guard singing to himself and rambling about the low pay he receives for his thankless job. "What's so special about that stupid vase anyway? I almost wish someone would steal that thing so I won't have to hear about how blasted important it is anymore." He quickly switched to the square-toothed lock pick, but was met with the same stubborn sound and refusal of the door handle to budge. Harlan leaned out and could now see the guard rounding the corner and heading his way." "Hello? Show yourself," came the guard's voice, now suspicious as to his presence. His last hope was the new circular lock pick. He jammed the pick into the hole and began to turn, but, to his dismay and horror, this final pick did not do the job either. There were no shadows in the spot Harlan was standing, and he was not in a position to knock the guard out with his blackjack. His only option was to kill the guard. However, he did not have time to ready his bow, and did not want a swordfight at this stage in his career. "I'm coming over there, taffer!" the guard exclaimed. "You can't hide forever!" A quick glance showed the guard was creeping over to the balcony, his sword raised. Out of desperation, Harlan pulled out his new climbing gloves, threw himself at the wall, and scurried like a lizard over the doorway just as the guard approached his hiding spot. "Hmm, he's gotta be around here somewhere," the guard said, and started circling the balcony. After a few seconds, he produced a key from his belt and opened the door, checking the bedroom to make sure the intruder had not already found a way in. Harlan realized this was his chance. He quickly mantled up onto the roof, shot a moss arrow onto the balcony, and as the guard emerged from the room with his back turned, silently dropped to the mossy covering, dashed inside, and hid in a small crevice out of view from the balcony. "Oh well, guess it was nothing," the guard declared, locked the door, and moved on his way.

Harlan waited until the footsteps had died down before creeping out into the room. Lady Waterdike was fast asleep, snoring in a manner he did not think possible for a lady, much less one belonging to the upper class. To her right was a small button on the wall, no doubt an alarm to send the guards clamoring, bringing about the worst possible scenario for him. Suddenly, Harlan realized that he was projecting a large shadow directly over Waterdike and onto the wall. He turned around to see the roaring fire in the fireplace casting an orange glow onto his cloak. He heard the noblewoman mumbling in her sleep, reverting to a semi-conscious state. He quickly pulled a water arrow from his quiver, and sent it into the flames, plunging the room into darkness. With the fire completely out, Harlan could see his prize on the mantelpiece. The vase glimmered in the smoldering remnants of the fire, appearing almost to be made of liquid. Gazing at this masterpiece, Harlan could understand the squabbling of the ladies who unsuccessfully sought the vase. He crept over to the mantle and swiftly plucked the treasure from its resting place. At that exact moment, Lady Waterdike sat bolt upright in bed. "Hello? Who's there?" she inquired. Harlan immediately froze in his tracks, his extended arm holding the vase above the mantle. Noticing her treasure mysteriously hovering above its proper place, Waterdike stood on the edge of her bed to examine the situation, and slowly began walking toward Harlan. Realizing he had to react quickly, Harlan thrust the vase into his bag, prompting Waterdike to approach the figure she by now had determined was an intruder. Harlan quickly spun around and found himself face to face with a noble for the second time in as many outings. "Help! Guards!" Waterdike shouted and immediately turned to sound the alarm. Harlan, in anticipation of such an event, grabbed his blackjack, lunged towards the noblewoman, and delivered a forceful blow upon her head. Waterdike gave a pained grunt and collapsed beneath the alarm button. Harlan was lucky to have scored the knockout when he did; had he waited another second, she would have activated the alarm, sending every guard in the manor to her room for Harlan to fight off. He quickly slung the unconscious lady over his shoulder, and deposited her inside a closet beside the fireplace. As he shut the door, he noticed a blue chest leaned up against the wall. He opened it to find a rather large diamond that he stashed in his loot bag along with the chief prize. He crept back into the room to scour for any other valuables he might have missed his first time around. Sure enough, he recovered several stacks of coins on the table beside the bed, two jewel-encrusted chalices from similar chests, and two golden candlesticks from the mantelpiece. Satisfied with his haul, Harlan turned to leave. Unfortunately, he realized that only the appropriate key would open the balcony door. The only person to hold the key was the guard he had encountered upon entering the room, and he had no hope to snatch it from his belt, as the guard patrolled from the outside. Harlan realized that he would have to trek through the manner to find an alternate means of escape.

Harlan silently snuck over to the door leading into the main hallway. As he sprung the lock with his picks, the door produced a sharp creaking sound. Almost instantly the voice of a guard issued forth. "Hello? Anyone there?" Fortunately, Harlan was able to duck into a shadow inside the room. "No one there now," the guard mumbled, and turned to patrol the hall the other way. Harlan reached for his blackjack, glided up to the guard, and delivered a forceful blow, instantly rendering him unconscious. At that very moment, a second guard rounded the corner and headed their way. Harlan produced his bow and found the water arrows in his quiver. With incredible dexterity, he fired off three arrows in rapid succession, dousing the torches along the hallway. As the guard approached, Harlan lifted up the unconscious body of the first guard and dragged him into Waterdike's bedroom, out of sight. He emerged back into the shadowy hallway, where the second guard stopped just before reaching his hiding place and turned back down the corridor. Harlan once again snuck up to his unsuspecting victim, raised his blackjack, and brought it down forcefully on the guard's head. He dragged the second unconscious guard into the bedroom, and deposited both bodies alongside Waterdike's in the closet. He closed the door, and continued his search for an exit.

Harlan crept along the corridor until he came to another door. He stepped inside, and found himself in a dark spare bedroom. He scoured the room for trinkets, and his eyes came to rest on two strongboxes on the floor. The first opened easily, yielding a small golden chalice. The second required Harlan to use his lock picks, and he pulled out another large diamond. As he opened the door, he noticed another room on the opposite side of the wall. He entered to find himself in a room stocked with fine silverware and kitchen supplies. He pilfered several golden dishes, bejeweled chalices, and bottles of rare, valuable wine. When he was sure he had taken the last of the valuable items, he once again started down the corridor.

As Harlan turned the corner, he pushed a door open to find himself in a large, Spartan room. The lack of frills and rows of beds lined up led Harlan to realize that he had entered the servant's quarters. Two manservants lay in their beds fast asleep. While servants generally carried little money, it could not hurt to look for whatever trinkets they could have. As he crept across the room, his footsteps produced hollow echoes on the floor. After his encounter with Waterdike, Harlan decided he would not risk any further confrontations. He covered the ground in moss arrows leading to the servants' beds, and delivered powerful blows upon their heads. The servants quickly jolted up before falling back into deep unconsciousness. As expected, the loot available was scarce. Harlan managed to obtain only a few small handfuls of coins before he emerged back into the hallway, closed the door so as not to reveal the servants' unconscious bodies to the guards, and continued on his way.

Harlan peered out into the corridor and cautiously continued down the hall. He traveled several feet before reaching another door. He entered another large, barren room, this one lined with bunk beds. Harlan surmised that this room was the guards' quarters. At the foot of each bed lay a strongbox. Once again, Harlan did not expect these boxes would yield much treasure, but at least hoped for one valuable trinket. Sure enough, he procured a small stack of bronze coins among a collection of junk, including worthless vases, stale bread, and overripe fruit. The only other item of value Harlan was able to take was a set of ten additional broadhead arrows. He quickly checked for patrolling guards before continuing down the corridor.

Harlan scoured ahead to see three more doors lining the hall. He was sure one of these rooms contained a key to the balcony. Between the vase and the various treasures, Harlan felt satisfied with his haul. He did not want to spend more time in the mansion than necessary with the low level of experience he had with this type of thievery. He tried the first door on his right, and entered into another spare bedroom. He recovered a golden vase from above a fireplace before spying a door off to the side of the mantle. He opened the door to step into a washroom, where he lifted a pair of golden candlesticks and a small bejeweled goblet. He stepped back into the main room and opened the door once again. At that moment, he heard the now-common sound of off-key humming and loud footsteps. He readied a water arrow and doused the torch illuminating the bedroom just as the guard passed by. When the guard passed, Harlan silently snuck out into the corridor and rendered him unconscious with the blackjack. He dragged the guard into the bedroom, extinguished the fire with another water arrow, and opened the door for the next room. He had barely taken a step inside, when he heard gruff voices exchanging banter.

"I hear Mosley's not in charge of the City Watch anymore," came one voice.

"Really, why not?" asked a second. "She was the best Sheriff this city has ever seen."

"It's because of what happened on Nobility Day. A drunken riot was bad enough, but a thief was able to get right up to the nobility's tables and rob them of nearly everything. After that night, Lord Bassel went right to the Baron and demanded her head. Something about a customized crown of his getting taken."

"It's a shame. Under Mosley, the Watch was actually useful. She was able to undo the damage from that corrupt skunk Truart, and made the Watch effective at fighting real crimes. I've seen several Commissioners stay in after far worse incidents, and not just one of them, either."

"It wasn't just this one incident. There were also complaints that she was too soft on the Pagans. The Hammers have been calling for her removal for years."

"But the Hammers haven't been influential for quite some time now. Most people regard them as a fringe religion with almost no real influence anymore."

"If the history of The City has shown us anything, it's that we're better off with the Hammers on our side than against us. The Hammers have had their ups and downs, but the Baron knows it's best not to antagonize them."

"Yeah, maybe. So, who's Mosley's replacement?"

"The way I hears it, as soon as the nobility got wind of the change, Bafford barged right into the Baron's castle, blustering about Garrett and the scepter incident, as usual. He demanded to oversee the appointment committee. It sounds like he wants an older man who will bring back the old Commissioner system. He wants someone who has seen Garrett, can recognize him, and is willing to dedicate practically all of the Watch's time and money to capturing or killing him."

"Great. From efficient crime control to chasing shadows. Looks like we won't be getting much help from the Watch in protecting that vase."

"Don't worry, we won't need any help. Ain't nobody sneaking past us to take it."

Harlan chuckled to himself as he shut the door and leaned into the shadows. When it became clear that the guards were not going to leave the room, Harlan quickly skipped past, believing it would be best to leave them undisturbed and unaware, rather than risk unnecessary attention attempting to nick whatever small amount may be in the room.

Harlan opened the third door to find a large staircase. Harlan began his descent to the first floor, and hopefully, a way out of the manor. When Harlan reached the bottom of the stairs, he entered a massive room filled with banners displaying the Waterdike family crest and a large fountain at the center. As he approached the fountain in search of valuable, loosely-secured pieces, his footsteps emitted sharp echoes that carried up to the ceiling. Harlan looked down to see the solid marble floor, the worst surface to traverse aside from metal. He looked back up to see a guard on the far end of the room with a puzzled look on his face. "Hello? Who's there?" the guard asked. Harlan reached for his water arrows, only to notice that the lights in this room were generated by an external power source impervious to the water tips. He quickly backpedaled to the foot of the staircase, which not only produced more loud echoes, but did not even afford him a shadow to slip into. At this point, the guard broke into a run, drew his sword, and charged at Harlan full-bore. Harlan drew his sword and prepared to strike, but the guard easily parried the blow and returned the attack. The guard's sword barely managed to scratch Harlan before he managed to jump out of the way, pull a flash bomb from his cloak, and hurl it towards the ground. Unfortunately, he forgot to shield or avert his eyes while doing so, and was greeted with a white flash and sharp pain in his own eyes. As the white wall began to dissipate, he could make out the outline of the room, and the blinded guard still staggering around. He scrambled towards what he believed was a corridor, and found himself in a dark patch of hallway just as his vision fully returned. Over the cursing of the angry guard, Harlan heard a second booming voice from the far end of the main room.

"What's going on out here?"

"There's an intruder! I saw him! Keep your eyes open and your sword ready!"

Harlan fired a moss arrow onto the marble floor and quickly leapt into the nearby room, which turned out to be a type of study. He snuck over to the desk on the far end of the room, where he noticed six stacks of gold coins, which he quickly shoveled into his loot bag. At that moment, a horrid, shrill sound came to life, piercing Harlan's ears-that of the house alarm. He crept over to the doorway, and momentarily stood to the side, his sword raised in anticipation of a guard. He creaked the door open ever so slightly, and when he was certain no guards were waiting on the other end, he snuck back out into the hallway and continued towards the next door.

Harlan's first attempt to open the door was unsuccessful, as the lock sharply held in place. However, Harlan quickly produced his lockpicks, and sprung the door open in a matter of seconds. As he closed the door behind him, he noticed that the small room contained a chest at the foot of a desk. The lock on the chest also required picking, but he soon sprang it as well, and fished around inside before lifting out a large silver nugget. Once again, Harlan crouched up to the wall, opened the door slightly, and drew his sword above his head, ready to strike whoever entered looking for him. When he was satisfactorily convinced that he was once again safe, he swung the door open fully and emerged into the hallway.

Harlan continued down the corridor until he saw another door to his right. He could see the end of the hallway ahead of him, but this sight included a guard strutting down the corridor, heading right for him. He pulled out his lockpicks and quickly sprang the lock, dove inside, and slammed the door behind him. Upon catching his breath and gathering his bearings, Harlan noticed that he had entered the kitchen. A golden dish and goblet and a bottle of rare wine sat on the small table in the middle of the room. Harlan lifted these trinkets into his bag, and hid in a shadow in a corner, waiting for the guard to pass by. Unfortunately, he heard voices stop just outside the doorway.

"Stay alert! There's an intruder somewhere about!"

"I haven't seen him. Maybe we could try in here."

To his shock and horror, Harlan saw the handle on the door turn, and the door move into the room. At that moment, Harlan saw two buttons just by his head. He pushed the bottom button, hoping it was what he thought it was. To his relief, he saw a platform lower into the small compartment for the dumbwaiter. Harlan crouched inside just as the guards burst into the room. He quickly hit the top button, sending the dumbwaiter back to the first level. The guards, hearing the machine activating, snapped their heads in its direction, only to see their black-hooded pursuer's ascent. "Over there!" one shouted, pointing his sword at the machine. However, it was too late. Harlan could see the guards disappear from view, replaced with the sight of a solid brick column. He thought about giving a smug wave, but his adrenaline, and the pounding of the alarm in his ears, only kept him glued to the platform, fixated upon escaping the manor.

The bricks eventually gave way once again to light and open air, and Harlan found himself looking out into a dining room, the room he skipped over on his first trip through this level. He crouched down and emerged from the dumbwaiter into the room. Directly opposite him was an open door leading out into the hallway. He did not bother scouring the room for treasures; the room was fully lit, contained nothing to hide him, and he was sure the guards would return any minute. Sure enough, as soon as he set foot in the hallway, he could see a swordsman and an archer staring off in different directions, scouring the hall. Harlan broke into a raging sprint, deciding to pass the archer first. The route was longer, and he knew he risked an arrow in the back, but guessed that on the initial pass, he was safer, as the archer was not equipped for close combat. Sure enough, by the time the guard readied the arrow, his sword-carrying compatriot had begun heavy pursuit, chasing Harlan down, but standing directly in the archer's path. With the two guards close on his heels, Harlan led the chase back to Waterdike's main bedroom. As he opened the door, he noticed the door leading out to the walkway wide open, and the guard who patrolled the outside standing in his path, his sword raised. The two pursuing guards entered behind Harlan, sandwiching their prey in between themselves and the third guard, who held out his sword, ready to skewer the thief. Harlan, however, loosened a flash bomb, pulled his hood over his eyes, and threw the device down at the third guard's feet. Harlan could make out a white flash and the sharp, pained cry of the blinded guard. The flash bomb had no effect on the other two guards, but they were unable to catch Harlan as he ran directly out the window, launched himself off the balcony, and into the moat below. After a few moments of silence underwater, Harlan emerged triumphant. He began to swim towards the main gates, but as he swam, he heard the unmistakable sound of a bowstring being drawn. He kicked his leisurely float into a full stroke, but could only hear a whistling sound before feeling a sharp pain in his shoulder. He sank below the surface, rounded a corner, and sprang up as he believed he was out of the archer's range. He found that he had reached the main gate, at which two guards were stationed at the manor's entrance, as well as by the doors leading up to the mansion. Fortunately, he spied a drainage system leading away from the manor. He allowed himself to be sucked into the current, which whisked him away from Waterdike Manor, and down the streets of Dayport.

When the flow lost its force and Harlan floated into a secluded area, he pulled himself out of the canal and flopped onto the stone streets, panting and exhausted. He reached back and extracted the bloody arrow from his shoulder. While not life-threatening, the wound was certainly painful. He reached into his pouch and procured a bottle of healing potion. As he gulped the medicine down, the pain turned into a warm, relaxing relief at the point of the wound, as well as allowing the ringing in his ears from the alarm bell to subside. Harlan felt his strength return, allowing him to smash the empty vial in his hand. He set his loot bag down and rummaged through until he extracted the chief prize. Once more, he marveled at its beauty, and for the first time, realized that he was responsible for taking a wonderful antiquity from the upper class. Harlan sat in tired but joyful wonder, admiring his trophy, and all he had done to obtain it.

"Put it back," a sharp voice behind him instructed. Harlan turned around to see Garrett standing over him, a stern look on his face. "Now," he insisted. Harlan quickly threw the vase back into the loot bag with his other prizes. "What do you think you're doing?" Garrett pressed. "You're leaving a valuable item you just stole out in the open for the whole world to see." Garrett's voice, however, took on a softer, proud tone. "Well, aside from displaying your prize where the City Watch could see it any time, you pulled off a nice little job tonight. Although, some of your decisions were not well thought-out."

"Stealing the vase was easy enough," Harlan admitted. "It was getting out once I had it that was the tough part."

"Sometimes, acquiring the prize isn't the hard part," Garrett answered. "I chose this job for you specifically to show you that all parts of a job have to be thought through beginning to end. Remember, acquiring the loot is only half the battle."

"I had it under control," Harlan insisted, "Until I got downstairs. I walked right down the stairs into the full view of all the guards in the main room. I was lucky to have my flash bombs on me, and that I found the dumbwaiter in the kitchen when I did." At this point, Harlan noticed Garrett staring down at him intently, waiting for him to make the connection. "That's it! I should've used the dumbwaiter first, instead of…"

"…the main stairs, which always lead to the most heavily-guarded part of the manor," Garrett finished. "It took a nasty confrontation, but that's the only way you can learn to become a master thief."

"But, Garrett," Harlan protested, "When I first tried to get into the dining room with the dumbwaiter, it was filled with guards, and they weren't leaving. How was I supposed to get past them?"

"There are ways," Garrett answered, "as long as you have the right tools." Harlan reached behind himself into his quiver. Suddenly, he understood his mentor's point as he pulled out a noisemaker arrow. "Didn't you say you would never need to use those? That you couldn't understand why you would want a guard to hear anything?" Garrett inquired.

Harlan's eyes lit up, as he finally understood the value of all his equipment. "I didn't get to use all of this," he stated. "Maybe if I had, the job would have gone perfectly."

"It's not about unloading all your equipment on the guards," Garrett remarked. "It's about being prepared for what you _could_ face, and using the right weapons and tools when you do need them." Garrett turned and walked down the street. "Let's get back to the tower," he instructed. "Waterdike's guards may be looking for us, or at least alerted the Watch about the break-in."

Garrett and Harlan arrived back at the Mechanist Tower and made their way to the fifth floor, where Harlan had chosen to stay. Harlan emptied his loot bag, displaying the vase, and all the other various coins, jewels, and valuables he had taken. "You hold onto the goods tonight," Garrett told his student. "Tomorrow I'll take you to my fence and get you your payoff. Just to let you know, right now, I'm taking inventory. If I find that anything's missing tomorrow…" Garrett leaned in to Harlan, holding his dagger to the boy's throat. Harlan gave a breathless nod of understanding. As Garrett emerged from the tower onto the second-floor ledge, two hooded figures immediately greeted him.

"We have urgent news from the Keeper Council," the first man announced.

"First Keeper Curran has passed away," the second man said. "The Council is soon to appoint a new leader."

"While the balance of our own Order is in limbo," the first Keeper continued, "clues continue to pour in regarding the upcoming Dark Age. We still don't know its engineer or the events that will precede or follow, but your time is coming. Very soon."

"We will keep you informed," the second Keeper concluded, before the two men jumped off the ledge, secured the side of the wall with their climbing gloves, and disappeared into the smoky haze at the bottom. Garrett could only shake his head and ponder the Keepers' words as he left Angelwatch and headed towards his home base in South Quarter.


	3. Episode 3: Double Trouble

Episode 3: Double Trouble

"Come on, Garrett, let's go!" Harlan could scarcely keep still as he gathered all the items he took from the Waterdike mission into his sack. "I want to exchange for my gold, and get started on my next job!"

"Calm down, kid." Garrett did not look up from his mechanical eye, which he had removed from his face and began polishing with a rag he carried. "Even master thieves have to rest every now and then. At the pace you go, you take jobs faster than I can assign them."

"I feel like I can handle anything now," Harlan proclaimed. "After completing a real burglary in a real mansion, I'm ready to see what else I can handle. Maybe after a few more jobs on The City's nobility, I could even go after the Hammerite Temples, or a Pagan compound, even the Baronial Palace. Or even..."

Garrett gave a slight laugh. "Those last ideas you had aren't the smartest things I've heard you say. The Hammer-Pagan Wars have cost so many lives over the years, nobody can truly keep count. Anyone who angers either side really puts their life into their hands. When I got mixed up with the Hammers and Pagans, I was lucky that this was all that happened to me." Garrett held up his mechanical eye to emphasize his point. "I'm not likely to authorize such a task for you anytime soon. And certainly not for..." Garrett had to stop himself before he revealed the existence of the secret society who taught him the art of stealth and the basics of combat, the City's third faction that manipulates the others from the shadows, the organization that will no doubt make Garrett an unwitting hero for the third time. "Anyway," he continued, "lack of confidence is not going to be your weakness."

In spite of the enthusiasm and confidence Harlan projected, the Waterdike job did rattle him to an extent. He did not relish the fact that his first burglary saw him come face to face with the guards, or trigger the alarm. However, his experience on Nobility Day did prepare him for that type of encounter, and, while he still committed several potentially fatal errors in judgment, the ordeal did teach him to keep his head and think of some strategies to shake persistent guards. However, rather than dwell on the fear he felt, Harlan attempted to conquer it by looking ahead to the next assignment and focus on future success rather than past blunders. As Garrett finished polishing his eye, Harlan once again sprang toward the edge of the window and looked out over The City. "Look at it," he mused. "Rooms and rooms stacked with gold, jewelry, and artwork. It's sitting there collecting dust, and I'm sitting here, letting it collect dust. I have to get out of here and go for it!"

"Alright," Garrett grunted slightly as he popped his mechanical eye back into its socket and turned towards Harlan. "Let's go."

As darkness set in, the last of Stonemarket's honest vendors and merchants hurried off the streets and into their homes before the pickpockets, prostitutes, and other representatives of The City's criminal element oozed from shadowy alleys and dimly lit taverns and took up positions along the ancient cobblestones. Until the Metal Age, the district of Wayside served as the primary location for criminal activity. However, once Wayside was razed to make way for Soulforge Cathedral, the loss of viable quarters, as well as the presence of the Mechanists, forced the criminals to seek new sanctuary. Most of the criminals took up residence at Stonemarket, The City's oldest market district, filled with merchants to plunder, as well as the patrons of their shops. The City Watch was also unable to form an effective presence in the area, and could do little to stop the tide of crime, aside from the occasional patrol. As Garrett and Harlan entered the district, they instantly noticed the furtive movements of faceless figures, many clutching large purses to their chests. Others crouched in alleyways, scouting potential targets. Harlan could see some holding daggers, unsuccessfully trying to stay out of sight, their efforts somewhat frustrated by gruff howls of laughter.

"Stay close to me," Garrett commanded. "Keep in the shadows, don't make eye contact with anyone." On the wall beside them sat a Wanted poster, with a drawing of a hooded figure drawn with Garrett's features emphasizing the metallic eye, and a reward that could turn a street urchin into a member of the nobility. "As you can see, the Watch knows me," Garrett stated. "Whatever you do, if you see any of their officers, stay as far away as you can. If they do start to approach, don't do anything unless I do it first."

Harlan kept his head on a swivel as he and Garrett twisted through the maze of closed kiosks and maniacal faces. His eyes darted among faces sporting hideous scars, pockmarks, eye deformities, gaps between yellow and brown teeth, and unruly stubble. Harlan twisted his head as he walked to survey the mob, until he felt an elbow lightly but firmly clip his bread basket. "Relax," his mentor's voice proclaimed from behind his hood. "You look like an excited rat right about now. If you want these guys to sense fear and weakness, that is the way to do it." Harlan swallowed hard, took a deep breath, and attempted to heed Garrett's advice. Nonetheless, he kept his eyes roving, only at a slower, more subtle pace. Before long, he understood Garrett's point, as he spied a man rapidly switching his head from side to side, and glancing frequently at a purse on his belt. Harlan discovered a path of shadow he could take leading to the man, and swiftly glided up to him and plucked the purse from its nervous owner's side. As he returned to Garrett's side, his teacher motioned for Harlan to follow him into an alley. After a few twists and turns, they emerged into a dead end closed in by three abandoned store windows. Garrett peered up at his student, who displayed the edge of the purse inside his sleeve, awaiting praise for his skill and quick thinking. While awaiting a pat on the shoulder, Harlan suddenly felt the sting of his mentor's hand across his face.

"What did I tell you the first day we met?" Garrett asked angrily. "Do not commit any thefts without my knowledge and permission. You had no idea what was waiting for you when you made that grab."

"But, Garrett, he was..."

"Scared. Scared enough to look around wildly and possibly look right into your eyes just as you were stealing his money. Or he could have been a decoy. Teams of robbers will send out a buddy to act as an easy mark to lure a cocky pickpocket out, only for them to swoop in and run a sword through you. And did you notice only your target, or also look at what was around him? Did you check to make sure you were not in full view of a City Watch Officer or a Hammerite patrol, so they would not see you-or me?"

"Well, no..."

"So now we know why I tell you to do things my way," Garrett concluded as he turned around to re-enter the market. "My orders will save both our lives. If you can't follow them, you will be on your own from here on out."

Garrett and Harlan stopped before a narrow shop with no sign advertising its wares like the others around it, and a red handprint on the door. "The red hand signifies the underground trade in The City," Garrett explained. "But don't just waltz into any shop you see it on. I chose Douglas' shop because he's loyal, reliable, and will give you a fair price. You may get more from someone like Heartless Perry, but there's a reason people call him that. He doesn't open up to accept too many clients, especially new faces." Garrett turned to open the door on Douglas' shop. "When we get inside, let me do all the talking. Douglas will only do business once you give him the code, and if you get it wrong by even a word, it could mean your life."

The two thieves entered to see a large, burly man with dark hair and an unkempt beard finishing up with another hooded figure. Garrett herded Harlan over to a corner of the store and made him look away as the man passed. Once he had exited, Garrett approached the shopkeeper and deposited the loot sack on the table.

"Nice bag," the man remarked.

"Thanks," Garrett responded. "It's made of burrick hide."

A smile crossed the shopkeeper's face. "Garrett!" he greeted in a low but excited voice. "You have something new for me already?"

"I think you'll like this haul," Garrett remarked.

"Glad to hear it. And I'm especially glad you came to me instead of that crook Perry."

"Aren't we all crooks out here?"

"Honor among thieves, my friend, honor among thieves." Suddenly, Douglas stopped, and Harlan noticed his eyes were resting on him. His once-jubilant voice suddenly went steely. "Who are you?" he inquired.

Harlan kept his lips sealed, desperate not to make another mistake such as he committed in the market. Fortunately, Garrett rescued him, piercing the silence with a simple response: "He's with me."

Though still suspicious, Douglas once again projected a welcoming tone. "That's what I needed to hear," he announced. "Garrett, your word is as valuable as anything I keep on the shelves here." He turned once again to the apprentice thief. "What did you say your name was?"

"Harlan," the young thief managed to get out after seeing Garrett's nod of approval.

"In fact," Garrett went on, "this is the kid I told you about last time. The haul I brought here is actually another of his jobs."

"Ah, the famous Nobility Day plunderer. Any more jobs like that, and I'll be able to retire before too long."

"Don't retire too soon," Garrett jokingly warned. I turned Harlan here over to you because I know you're a reliable fence who will give him what he deserves.

Douglas lifted the loot bag, before setting it down with a contented smile. "Can't make too many promises," he answered. "This thing's pretty heavy." He reached over the counter and gave Harlan a slap on the shoulder. "I like you already, kid," Douglas proclaimed. "Between you and Garrett, I'm going to have myself quite a little business here. Anyway, your bag feels promising enough. Let's get out back and see what's inside. Do you have anything to hold a candle to Lord Bassel's crown?"

"This one should," Garrett remarked. "In fact, I'm thinking he may have topped himself already."

Douglas pushed on a book on the shelf behind him, and the adjacent shelf raised to the ceiling. After ushering Harlan and Garrett inside and once more shutting the entrance by means of a lever on the inside wall, Douglas led them through a narrow passageway before stopping at a steel door. The fence removed a key from a ring on his belt and opened the door, leading to a room containing a worn rug in the center, a fire burning in a makeshift fireplace, and shelves around the walls, stacked with glittering items that had to be kept off the shelves in the main room, as they would look painfully and obviously out of place in a humble pawnshop. "Alright, kid," Douglas said as they settled into chairs by the fireplace. "Let's see what we stole."

Harlan handed his loot bag over to Douglas, who emptied its contents on the floor. He sifted through the jewels and coins, occasionally holding them up to the light of the flames, muttering to himself periodically. Finally, Garrett rummaged through the pile of loot until he procured the crystalline vase. "I think this will interest you the most," he offered.

Douglas' face instantly lit up. "Garrett, you were right. This does put the Bassel job to shame. Is that..."

"Lady Waterdike's vase," Garrett answered. "Wasn't there some sort of bet as to who would get to it first?"

"Yep. Every fence in The City swore it would be one of their boys who would be the one to sneak it out, and how long it would be before someone succeeded. I could step up and claim to have won, but everyone will try to say young Harlan here wasn't acting for me when he took it.

"He was acting for me," Garrett stated. "If anyone tries to stiff you on the bet, let me know. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Garrett, but I'm not exactly your client either. How many fences do you have in this city anyway?"

"Some things are better off unknown. Things like what a wealthy nobleman would want with a gemstone with necromantic powers, why the City Watch would deliver beggars to the Mechanists as 'servants,' and my entire list of fences and pawns. So, can you turn this pile of junk into gold for us?"

Douglas looked up as he finished sorting and examining the various treasures that lay scattered before him. "Of course. I'll be back in a second." Douglas gathered up the loot in the bag and turned to a desk in a far corner of the room. "And don't touch anything," he added, turning towards Harlan, who was eyeing the myriad pieces that lined the walls. After several minutes, the fence returned, and handed the bag to Garrett. Garrett reached in and transferred two handfuls of coins into a purse on his belt before handing the remainder to Harlan "We each have our shares now, so we'll be on our way." Douglas led the thieves back through the corridor out to the main area of the shop, and bid them farewell as they exited the store back to the streets of Stonemarket.

Garrett and Harlan passed back through the dank streets toward South Quarter. As they passed through a narrow archway, Harlan noticed a dark-hooded figure heading directly for him with his hand in his cloak. Harlan shifted his bag of gold toward the other side of his body, reached for his sword, and braced for impact. Just as the mysterious figure was about to make contact with him, Garrett rushed in front of him and absorbed the blow. At that moment, Harlan felt a tug from behind, and his purse slipped through his fingers. He turned around to see a second figure running away from him, tucking the bag into his cloak. Harlan drew his sword to give chase, but felt an arm on his shoulder, and heard a weak gasp. Harlan turned around to see the first man bent over Garrett's shoulder, blood pouring from his mouth. Garrett took a step back, and the man collapsed on the ground, with Garrett's dagger in his stomach. His hood slipped from his head, and Harlan could see a hard, grimy face with dark eyes and short, light-brown hair. Harlan glanced back at the second robber, and saw him about to disappear into the mist. However, before he disappeared, the man stopped, turned back toward the scene, and ran back to his fallen comrade. He stood frozen at the sight of his wounded accomplice before pulling a vial of healing potion from his belt and lobbing it towards him. The wounded thief downed the liquid and pulled the dagger from his bleeding body. As the wound closed and the blood caked dry, Garrett retrieved his dagger and held it to his assailant's throat. His accomplice lunged toward Garrett, but Harlan greeted him with a forearm to the face, dropping the man flat on his back. Harlan quickly drew his sword, bearing down on the would-be thief.

"Give it back," Harlan ordered, simultaneously angry at the mysterious pair for attempting to rob The City's newest master thief, and himself for allowing these men to get the better of him, as well as a mixture of amusement, amazement, and content that, for once, he was on the other end of a sword blade aimed at a downed man's throat.

"Careful," Garrett warned as Harlan bent down to retrieve the purse from his subdued adversary. As Harlan took the purse, his prisoner suddenly jerked his head in the direction of Garrett and his quarry. "Is he okay?" the man shouted. "Is he okay? You better not hurt him!"

Taken aback, Harlan once more pressed his sword against the man's throat. At that moment, Garrett's prisoner similarly twisted and shrieked wildly. "Stop it! You'll kill him!" Garrett threw his foe's head to the ground and pressed the dagger firmly against his throat. "If you keep that up, we just might have to."

Harlan finally managed to exercise control over his opponent as well, but during the fracas, the man's hood fell off. A wave of shock overcame Harlan as he examined the man's face. The same short brown hair, steely brown eyes, and stark features were present in his adversary. The features were more than similar to those of his counterpart; the Master Builder had cast them out of the same mold.

"Let him go," the man under Harlan's sword urged. "I don't care what happens to me."

"Don't say that," replied his partner who Garrett had restrained.

Harlan looked toward his mentor. "Who are these guys? Are they..."

"Twins," answered Garrett. "They look and act exactly alike, making them the perfect partners to execute a tandem job. But their connection with each other makes them put their brother's safety ahead of the heist objective. That is the main weakness of this combination, and why thieves should work alone in general."

"Who are you to give advice to a thief?" asked Garrett's victim indignantly. "Unless you're Garrett himself, you can't tell us how to steal. Our team effort has paid off for years on these streets."

Garrett gave a slight laugh upon hearing his name. "Well maybe he is..." Harlan began, before remembering that his tutelage and his life would come to an end if he were to ever reveal Garrett's identity or whereabouts. Garrett, however, leaned in to his victim and pulled back his hood, revealing his eye. "So now can I tell you that your method is weak?" he stated.

"Master Garrett! It is you!" exclaimed his victim. "Garrett?" his brother gasped, turning his head in his direction before Harlan forced it back with the edge of his sword.

"It's alright, Harlan," Garrett assured him. "I don't think these guys will give us any more trouble."

"Trouble?" Garrett's prisoner returned. "We want to prove ourselves to you. My name is Ryker, and this is my brother Rayner. We apologize for the misunderstanding. If we had any idea it was you, we would have let you go in peace. Now, all we want is to know how to improve our technique."

"Isn't it obvious?" Harlan interjected. "Your style is garbage. All it got you was our blades against your throats."

"Excuse me," Rayner countered. "But I do remember snatching that purse from right under that big nose of yours.

"You mean this one?" Harlan dangled the bag of gold over the defeated twin.

"You know I would have had it. If only Ryker hadn't been wounded..."

"You mean if he hadn't gotten caught."

"Enough," Garrett interrupted sternly. Harlan and the twins fell silent and their eyes all fell upon him. "Harlan, you are in no place to criticize their style. If not for me, these boys and that purse would be long gone by now. You let your guard down, and you played right into their trap. On the other hand," he continued, turning toward Rayner, "you inexcusably let your emotions get the better of you. You had a sure-fire success of a robbery, but you blew it out of fear and panic."

"What was I supposed to do?" Rayner snapped. "Abandon my brother?"

"What you do not do is compromise your theft and your life. Remove yourself from the immediate danger, and then come up with a strategy to free your comrade safely."

"It really doesn't matter," interjected Harlan as he began to back away from Rayner, though still keeping his blade firmly on his throat. "I'm the top thief in The City now, and if I ever see you again, I will finish this job. There's no use talking to these two anymore."

"Actually," Garrett responded, slowly easing his blade off Ryker's throat, "these two have shown me something here. Like you, they have skill that is only limited by quick tempers and rash judgments. And they certainly outwitted you here tonight. Maybe I'd be better off with them under my wing."

Ryker and Rayner exchanged excited glances, elated at the prospect of learning thievery under The City's living legend. Harlan, however, marched over to his mentor, flabbergasted. "Is that all you think of me? One mistake, that didn't even cause any trouble, and you're willing to cast me aside for these two goons you know nothing about? And do you think for one second that when it comes to a real job-actual burglary, not just street robbery-that these taffers can hold a candle to me?"

"I say we find out," returned Garrett. "We can play a little game, with my tutelage as the prize, along with the loot. Abraham Tybalt is one of the wealthiest merchants in The City, who often holds many of the priceless trinkets that find their way into the mansions of the nobility, at least until thieves like us clean them out. Currently, he is holding four small but valuable statues in his warehouse intended for display in Lord Holanthrus' library. Your job is to ensure that Holanthrus has a few complaints about Tybalt's security measures. Whoever manages to procure the most of the statues is worthy to be my student. Get your gear where you can and meet up in front of Tybalt's warehouse in one hour. Then we'll see who can truly be Garrett's apprentice."

Harlan slipped back to Angelwatch, and mustered a small collection of arrows, flash bombs, and healing potions before heading to the Docks and twisting his way through the maze of warehouses and offices before stopping in front of the largest building in the area, with a bronze plaque reading ABRAHAM TYBALT, SHIPPING AND MERCANTILE over two massive green iron doors. As he approached the entryway, he noticed a black cloaked figure standing in front of the steps leading to the entrance who he assumed to be one of the twins. Harlan quickly slunk back into the shadows, drew his blackjack and silently crept up to the thief, hoping to eliminate one of his competitors before the race was even underway. As he approached the man's back, he raised his blackjack, only to hear a swift whistling sound behind him, followed by an abrupt sound and angry grunt. He turned around to see the other twin behind him, his blackjack raised to knock him out, and his wrist firmly ensnared in Garrett's hand. Harlan instantly realized the trap he would have fallen into: he was not the predator, but the prey, and one of the twins had stood out as a decoy, while his brother lay in the shadows, poised to strike him unconscious, leaving Ryker and Rayner to pillage the warehouse unopposed.

"Save it for when I say to start," Garrett ordered, pushing the blackjack-wielding twin aside, into his brother. "Once you get inside, however, anything goes. On my signal, you are free to enter the warehouse by any means you see proper. Remember, there are four priceless statues held inside. Whoever takes the most will definitively receive the title of my apprentice." Ryker, Rayner, and Harlan each took up positions as Garrett raised his right hand, scanning the building for safe, easy access points. "One more thing," Garrett offered, causing the three thieves to stop dead in their tracks, "Tybalt still guards his warehouse with illegal Mechanist technology. In fact, he relies exclusively on it, so you will need to keep this in mind when planning your path and your thieving techniques." Harlan felt his heart sink in disappointment and apprehension. Fearing interaction primarily with human guards, he stocked his quiver mostly with broadhead arrows, and only a limited supply of water and fire arrows. However, as he glanced at the twins, he noticed they shared an identical realization. He took a deep breath, and attempted to keep one eye on his route, and one eye on his adversaries. Finally, Garrett broke the stillness and silence, dropping his hand and yelling, "Begin!"

Harlan bolted in his chosen direction, before glancing over his shoulder to view the twins' path. To his amazement, he saw Ryker head straight for the front doors, which he brazenly flung open. A split second later, he saw a metallic orb hurtling in his direction, which he instantly recognized as a flash bomb. Harlan pulled his hood over his eyes just as the bomb impacted, emitting its eye-piercing light. He was able to avoid the brunt of the flash, but still absorbed enough to produce a red haze and pounding sensation in his eye sockets. Nevertheless, his vision was clear enough to rediscover his path, as he lurched into the nearest shadow against a brick wall. He saw a stack of crates to his right that he quickly mantled up to, just as a broadhead arrow cracked against the wall in his direction, no doubt another effort to finish him off before he entered the warehouse-arena. Although he was up high, he was still cast in shadow. He looked down towards the entrance to more clearly understand the twins' strategy. He was amazed to see one of the twins walk directly up to the towering green doors, lifting the bolt, and flinging them open. Within seconds, a shrill alarm fired a rapid beat, and an army of enormous blue metal beasts stormed out of the entrance way. The mechanical soldiers chattered in canned, nasally voices as a projectile shot out of one arm like a cannonball before exploding. The thief who opened the door managed to escape the pyrotechnics, but could not shake the relentless protectors known as the Builder's Children. Harlan, however, saw that as the last of the parade of Children passed through the door, the second twin, concealed in a shadow to the side, slipped through the door unimpeded.

Once inside, Rayner stopped to catch his breath. Their plan had worked seamlessly. While his brother served as decoy, he would slip into the warehouse undetected and explore for the grounds uninhibited. Sure enough, as he looked straight ahead, he noticed a small figure of a man on horseback standing on a crate directly in front of him. The maniacal inventor Karras continued to stare down on Rayner in a metallic form and sound its alarm unabated, but without the Children to provide security, he walked directly up to the ivory, jewel-encrusted prize, and snatch it off of its resting place.

Harlan quickly understood the twins' plan; he had fallen victim to the decoy tandem himself on numerous occasions since their first encounter. He decided on a quieter, less aggressive point of access as he climbed on a plank leading from the crates to an open window on the second floor of the warehouse, which he quickly traversed before slipping inside. As he crouched in the window, he looked down, and noticed a white figure that, while small, appeared highly valuable due to its luster and small rays of light beamed onto the floor and wall that Harlan guessed came from gems fitted inside. He donned his climbing gloves and began to descend towards his loot. Once he lowered himself below the windowsill, he turned around to survey the room. As he looked behind himself, he stared directly into a mechanical face with one lens as an eye. A small light on the bottom of the face turned from green to yellow, and Harlan immediately scampered back up towards the window. A second later, an alarm sounded, and Harlan heard a strange sound in the room near the statue. He looked down to see the now-red light on the alarm, and below that, two additional mechanical faces turning to face him, their mouths loaded with some sort of strange projectile. As he mantled back up to the window, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his leg, and blood running down towards his foot. He turned around in the window frame to see a sharp metallic projectile flash towards his face, only to strike the wall directly to his right. Harlan realized that the weapon was placed in conjunction with the scanning eye, and reacted to any foreign intruder it sensed. He readied a fire arrow, and, as the faces on the floor began to reload and refocus, he sent it hurtling at the scanner, which shattered into several pieces around the room, silencing the alarm as well. The Mechanist weapons stayed fixated on his spot in the window, but did not fire or budge further. After several seconds, Harlan once again pulled on his climbing gloves and descended to the floor. As he climbed, he noticed that the metal faces stood still, unable to react to the destroyed scanner. Once he reached the bottom, Harlan reached back and extracted a sharp metal cog from his leg. His hand moved towards his belt to loosen a healing potion, but he decided to forego its use, as the pain was relatively minor, and he may need the potion in another, more desperate situation. He crept up to the statue, one of an elegant woman on horseback, and shoved it into his loot bag, unimpeded by the blind weapons and disabled scanners.

Ryker unleashed a stream of fire arrows at the horde of enormous Children bearing down on him. He sensed explosions all around, with intense heat striking at his face and body, smoke punishing his eyes, and the smell of sulfur invading his nostrils. Nevertheless, he systematically unloaded fire arrows from his quiver and began firing away, occasionally shifting to his belt to unhook and swallow a bottle of healing potion. Fortunately, many of the Children's bombs disabled each other as they clambered into each other's paths and became caught up in the multitude of blasts. Nonetheless, Ryker found himself running low on ammunition and wounded from fire and shrapnel. Fortunately, a series of explosions began to echo around him, and he looked up to see several of the Children burst into pieces, while others shut down, disabled. As the giant sentinels shattered, Ryker could make out the form of his brother standing in the warehouse entrance, releasing fire arrows at his tormentors. Ryker joined his brother in dispatching the Children, whose poor aim also assisted in dismantling each other. When the smoke finally cleared, the twins stood over a pile of demolished Children, their path into the warehouse completely clear. Rayner tossed his brother a vial of healing potion, which he downed before the two of them walked through the front doors without further resistance.

Harlan navigated a maze of crates, occasionally stopping to check ahead for Mechanist security or his twin adversaries. On one occasion, he passed a short, green and gold Child on patrol, heading directly towards him. However, the Child only seemed to react when he moved loudly, and did not change its behavior as long as he was standing still, even in full view. Harlan quickly realized that the smaller Children patrolled on sound rather than sight, and limited his movement around them as a result, traversing the room with the aid of moss arrows whenever necessary. Eventually, he came to an archway overlooking the main floor below, and observed the next prize, a bejeweled white falcon with wings spread and mouth open, at the far end of the room. Between him and the bird lay a row of dormant, but able, Children, ready to strike at the first sign of intrusion. Harlan knew that he did not have enough moss arrows to cover the entire room, and any attempt to cross the room to his prize would result in his destruction at the hands of the iron sentries. He readied his climbing gloves, and began to scale the wall, hoping to snatch the prize from above. Harlan pulled himself nearly to the ceiling as he scaled across the wall until he hung directly over the statue. He realized that he could not move fast enough not to be seen, so he would have to move fast enough not to be hit. He rapidly lowered himself to the ground, and reached out to claim his trophy. Suddenly, an arrow arched through the air and landed on the floor in front of him. The impact produced a cacophony of clicks, springs, and thumps. If the benefits of the noisemaker arrow were lost on Harlan before, they flooded to his mind in one terrifying instant. At the sound of the impact, every Child in the room shrieked to life, and within seconds spotted him on the wall. He grabbed for the bird, but lost his balance and fell to the floor on his back, just as a bomb smashed into the wall where he had been hanging. The bomb missed as a projectile, but exploded beside him, sending a powerful blast into the side of his body, as well as toppling the table holding the statue. The prize rocked back and forth on its base before spilling off the table and into Harlan's lap. Harlan pushed the table over to shield himself from any further blasts before throwing the bird into his loot bag. Rolling towards the wall, he spied a grate in the corner. He wrenched the grate open and crawled inside, just as another explosive struck him from behind and sent burning shrapnel into the back of his body. Harlan just managed to crawl a distance down the narrow passageway and free a healing potion from his belt to numb the burns and lacerations before following the long, stuffy space to its end.

After a long trek down the crawl space, Harlan noticed a series of squares of mellow light just ahead of him. He pulled himself toward the spot he knew to be the end of the tunnel. Sure enough, he came upon the grate leading out into a new, lighted hallway. He eased the grate open to see one final prize on a podium at the end of the hall, a magnificent white dragon glittering with gemstones from head to tail. Harlan stayed within the crawl space, checking for either the twins or the Builder's Children, and his eyes eventually spied two mechanical scanners surveying the premises from the ceiling, along with a projectile launcher on each side. Harlan launched a fire arrow into each of the scanners before slinking out into the hallway and flipping a switch on the nearby wall to kill the lights in case of any further confrontation. He began what he hoped would be a quick, silent glide down the hallway and the acquisition of the third and decisive prize. However, at about the halfway point, he heard quick, desperate footsteps behind him, and turned around to find one of the twins galloping at him and the statute at full bore. Instinctively, he lowered his center of gravity and met the thief head-on, as the twin's arms snaked around him and they both spilled to the floor. Almost immediately, Harlan recognized the ploy of the tandem bait and snatch. He struggled to free himself, but his assailant continued to yank his leg and paw at his loot bag. This delay allowed the second twin to swoop in and swipe the dragon from its perch and stuff it into his own loot bag. At that moment, all three thieves heard CLANG! CLANG! CLANG! echoing through the halls in their direction. Harlan, Rayner, and Ryker all froze in terror. They understood that the Builder's Children, once aware of an intruder, will stalk their targets with unrelenting speed and uncanny precision. Shaking the pursuit of a Child is a task few have accomplished and lived to brag about. The competitors instantly forgot about fighting each other, as none had the stomach to turn it into a fight against the metal beasts. All three men made a beeline for the door, shoving each other out of their way, pushing past the broken scanners, and spilling out the front doors through the metal graveyard the twins had created earlier. The thieves mantled over a nearby wall and navigated a maze of crates and buildings, until a sharp whistle diverted their attention. As they turned, they noticed Garrett standing on the wall behind them. "Looks like our game is over," he declared. "Let's see who won."

Ryker instantly reached into his loot bag and held up the dragon he had just filched in the hallway, but Harlan pulled his statues out of his own bag and held them aloft. "Two! I got two," he yelled. "Looks like I win!"

"Not so fast," returned Rayner, who reached into his bag and produced the fourth item. "Look what I got here!"

"The rules said that whoever stole the most statues would become Garrett's student. As you can see, I stole two, while you each only stole one. Therefore, I won, and I am still Garrett's apprentice. Am I right?"

"It is correct that I said that I would take in whoever stole the most statues," Garrett answered. "And since you stole two, you cannot be said to have lost. However, Ryker and Rayner entered as a team. Their efforts must be thought of as the acts of one thief. Together, they have combined for two statues as well. Therefore, the result of this contest is a tie. Because you have combined to steal everything I ordered, and made me a nice chunk of gold in the process, and have done so evenly and through the use of clever techniques and strategies to outwit each other, I have decided to take all of you on as my apprentices."

The twins stood and stared in amazement that Garrett had accepted them into his fold. Harlan stood equally amazed, yet also unnerved. "You can't think..." he began.

"Yes I can, and I will," Garrett cut him off. "The bet was, win or leave. As I said before, you didn't lose, but you didn't win either. So you can always leave."

"No, no, I'm sorry," Harlan quickly protested. "You are right, if I am to be The City's new master thief, I can't lose, or even draw with anyone. I just have to become even better. Do you hear that?" he asked, turning towards the twins. "You may be Garrett's students too, but I'm not going to lose to you. I will out-steal you on any job we have!"

"We're not rolling over and letting you take the gold or the glory," Ryker replied. "Rayner and I have the same goal in mind. Wait until the next job. We'll show you thievery!"

Garrett filled the twins in on the rules he laid upon Harlan in their first meeting, and led the group back towards Angelwatch Tower. As the twins entered the second floor access point, he noticed Harlan lagging behind, dejected.

"Tying these guys is no shame," he offered. "You did the best you could to get those two statues."

"What would it take for me to have gotten all four?" Harlan asked.

"About two less thieves in the same building going after the same targets," Garrett replied.

"That's not what I meant."

"That _was _what I meant. Only stealing half the loot was no poor reflection on you. Nor was it a poor reflection on them. Their technique has its drawbacks, namely that one of them is always exposed to danger, but it is effective for people who take the bait and drop their guard for the other to come through and snatch the target. Didn't you fall for those techniques several times tonight?"

"Well, yes," Harlan replied, embarrassed.

"So their strategy is risky and dangerous, but it isn't completely ineffective. However, they had the problem of a determined, talented thief going for the same loot they were after. You and the twins each have your strengths and weaknesses, and in the end, they canceled each other out. Just as I had predicted."

"As you predicted?"

"I figured you would each end up splitting the statues the way you did. I set this competition up to test my theory and see if I could add to my little den of thieves."

"So, what changed your mind?" Harlan asked. "It took everything I had to convince you to take me on. Why are you now taking anyone who asks to be your student?"

"Not just anyone," Garrett answered. "If they show talent and a will to learn my way of thieving, I might consider expanding my teaching services."

"You have three times as many students to keep happy now," Harlan observed as he stepped into the trap door. "You will have to find ways to give three times the size of the job." Harlan suddenly saw a faint smile on Garrett's face. "Aha, that's it! With three times the thieves, and three times the job, you get...

"Three times the loot, and three times the payoff. There's a method to everything I do. And that method," Garrett explained before shutting the trap door, "is, if you maximize coverage, you will maximize money."


	4. Episode 4: Unexpected Competition

Episode 4: Expected and Unexpected Competition

Tension permeated the abandoned Mechanist Tower from almost the moment Harlan began his entrance into the second-floor passageway. Several minutes after the twins descended into the access point, Harlan pondered the all-too-real possibility that if he were to follow, he would wander into another of Ryker and Rayner's traps, setting him up to be cut open and his share of the statues lifted from his corpse. Instead, he donned his climbing gloves, secured the wall, and scaled the outer face to the window leading to his sixth-floor quarters. As he entered, he noticed to his relief that the door was still closed. Harlan performed a thorough search of every square inch of the room before sitting on the bed, facing the door with his bow at the ready. Before long, his door creaked open, and two familiar, shadowy figures swept through. Harlan raised his bow, and the two shadows drew back at the sound of the taut string.

"And what are you doing up here?" Harlan inquired.

"Just getting a feel of the place," Ryker returned.

"I'm sure you're also trying to get a feel of where my throat is so you can cut it in my sleep."

"Now that you mention it, that may not be a bad idea."

Just then, the door flung open a second time, and a familiar commanding voice broke the tension.

"Now, if you all were to kill each other, I would lose quite a lucrative investment. I decided three master thieves working for me were better than one, and I intend to keep three master thieves. I thought something like this might happen, so I decided to stop by just to ensure that nobody tries anything funny. Because if you do kill each other, the one who gets hurt in the end is me, specifically my bottom line. I will say this only once: the job is more important than any one of you. And if you turn on each other, how can I trust you not to turn on me? The simple answer is, I can't. Let this be a warning to you: if I come back here and find any dead bodies, I will add to the body count personally. Hate each other all you like, but if that hate turns to murder, I will...preserve the balance." Garrett's voice faltered as he uttered these final words, as if they would bring about an alarming revelation. However, as he finished, he vanished from the room once more, leaving the twins to slink back to their rooms shocked and flustered.

Under Garrett's stern warning, Harlan, Ryker, and Rayner stayed their hands from their weapons in each other's presence. Where the roommates once faced off as paranoid sentinels, they gradually began to view each other as worthy rivals. While each thief routinely checked his stash of loot after leaving his room unattended after a given period of time, they no longer feared death by their rival's blade or arrows. Harlan and the twins all resolved that they would still emerge victorious, but pledged to do so by theft, rather than by murder.

After five days of tension and competitive mind games, Garrett once more returned to Angelwatch for the four statues from the warehouse competition. "I see things have calmed down here," he remarked upon seeing his students gathered together without a weapon in anybody's hand. "I think you all know why I am here now."

Harlan sprang to his feet in anticipation. "You have another job for us, don't you? Well, let's have it! Who am I...er, we, taking on now?"

"Will you relax," Garrett retorted. "We still have some business to take care of from the Tybalt job. Remember, those statues you stole are more than just contest prizes. They are going to fetch a high price on the black market. We have to get them pawned before we move on to the next job. Besides, I have to show Ryker and Rayner how to deal with my fence the same way I showed you. We're making a little trip to Stonemarket. Get ready; you have some money coming your way too."

Garrett directed the twins to Douglas' pawn shop, with Harlan in tow. He ran through the same procedures with the twins, teaching them the burrick hide code, and introducing them to Douglas. Once again, the pawn was more than pleased with the haul, lining the statues up like a rank of soldiers, studying them intently. Douglas' demeanor floated between effusive praise for the young thieves and stupefied marvel at the trinkets they brought him. As the group left, he urged them to come back soon, a sentiment Harlan once again echoed as the party reached the streets.

"Garrett, please tell me you have a job lined up for me...er, us," he corrected as he noticed the twins eyeing him with a look that reminded him that from here on out, he no longer had to contend with only house guards and City Watch, but with them as well.

"As a matter of fact, I do," Garrett responded. "I checked with Douglas, and he told me that Lord Pocrates has in his possession a black obsidian music box. Hand-crafted, sleek, glassy sheen, complete with the usual sickening covering of gemstones, as the nobility does to show off their fortunes. It should fetch a high price once we bring it in. Of course, Pocrates has devoted the bulk of his guard force to watching over that little monstrosity, so getting close to it may prove to be difficult."

"Sounds like a challenge," Harlan mused, checking his sword in anticipation of the upcoming conflict. "Of course, the three of us will all be going after it. Which means..."

"Which means there is only one prize," Ryker interjected. "This time, there will be no tie. We will see once and for all who is truly deserving of the title of The City's greatest thief."

"Your competition is good, as it makes all of you steal at the highest level possible," Garrett observed, looking over his charges intently. "But don't let it get in the way of your job. Remember, all three of you are working for me. You are expected to complete any task I assign you, and if you let your egos get in the way, I won't have any use for you anymore." The thieves quickly nodded in agreement, and headed back to the tower to gain the necessary equipment.

An hour later, Harlan, Ryker, and Rayner were gathered in a bush watching Lord Pocrates' guards circle his extravagant manor, scouring the facade for any weaknesses. As they watched the patrolling guards intently, they suddenly heard a figure drop to the ground behind them. Before any of them could turn to react, a familiar voice reassured them that they had not been caught in an ambush. "Just wanted to say, good luck," Garrett offered. "As Harlan already knows, you will receive my encouragement, but nothing more...except for this." Garrett tossed each of his charges a small scroll, which, when unfurled, revealed a crudely drawn map of the manor. "Remember, you each have your own strengths and weaknesses that can make or break this mission. It's better to use them towards your common goal than against each other. Use your skills for every detail of your theft." The young thieves heard a quick flutter as Garrett jumped back over the wall and into the shadows, undoubtedly to where he could watch the entire job unfold. Ryker and Rayner attempted to make sense of Garrett's words, but memories of the Waterdike job flooded back to Harlan's mind. He silently nodded to himself, resolving to complete a flawless mission to prove to Garrett, the twins, and himself that he was now The City's greatest thief.

After observing the guards' outside patrol route for several minutes, Ryker observed a door at the far end of the building that was left unguarded for an extended period of time. He quickly signaled to his brother, and the they silently made their way through the bushes, with Harlan in tow, pausing whenever they detected a guard nearby. As they reached the door, they waited until the coast was clear, before Harlan darted to the door and pried it open. As he peeked inside, he suddenly felt a hand clutch his shoulder and yank him out of the room. Initially indignant that the twins once again opposed him, he soon heard the sound of snoring, and once he had pinpointed its source, he quickly realized that they may have saved him from a fatal mistake. Had Rayner not pulled him back, Harlan would have burst directly into the guards' quarters. His gaffe, however, was sufficient to rouse one of the drowsy guards. "Hello? Who's there?" the guard slurred as he reached for his sword. Ryker pulled himself out of the shadows just enough to alert the guard that something was there. "That's it, I'll find you!" the now-conscious and suspicious guard proclaimed, stomping out into the garden. As Ryker retreated back into the shadows sufficiently and the guard emerged fully from the room, Rayner sprang from his hiding spot and descended upon the guard with his blackjack. Harlan offered his gratitude by stashing the body in the bushes, and the thieves cautiously peered back into the room, noticing that two remaining guards had somehow slept through the disturbance. Harlan and the twins covered the floor with moss arrows before sneaking into the room, shutting the door behind them, and snuffing the candles burning on the tables. The twins blackjacked the two remaining guards to avoid a future confrontation, while Harlan rummaged through their foot lockers. Each of them scrounged up a paltry collection of coins, but not quite untold riches. The trio huddled at the door leading into the manor, and cautiously eased it open to find a guard walking halfway down the hallway away from them. As they watched him go, they determined that they should wait for him to make another pass before they attack. Not about to let the twins carry the majority of the task, Harlan quickly whispered, "Mine!" and brandished his blackjack. Sure enough, as the guard walked back towards their direction, Harlan glided up to him and knocked him out as soon as he turned. The twins focused their water arrows on the torches down the length of the hallway. As they did, a second guard approached from the hallway perpendicular to the corridor where Harlan had blackjacked his last victim. With the torches covering his hiding spot extinguished, Harlan watched as the guard strolled up to the shadow and, at mere feet from his face, turned on his heels and began his patrol back in the direction from which he came. Harlan raised his blackjack a second time and dispatched his foe with ease. He lifted the guard's body as the twins did the same to the first unconscious victim and deposited them inside the guard's quarters, out of sight for anyone who may stumble across them.

The three thieves made their way down the darkened hall, treading silently on the worn carpet. All three kept watch from different angles, half-expecting a sudden life-or-death encounter. The calm silence and surrounding shadows did little to alleviate their tension. As they passed a door to their left, Harlan pulled it open and snuck inside a small sitting-room. He was able to pull two golden candlesticks off a table in the corner before the twins were aware that the room might contain valuables. As he emerged back into the hallway, he noticed that his companions had opened a second door to an adjacent room, and entered to seize whatever goods contained therein. Harlan realized that just as the twins had missed their opportunity with the first room, he had missed his with the second. He cautiously but steadily continued down the hall to discover the next room ripe for the taking. He entered into a study where he grabbed a stack of silver coins from the table. Meanwhile, Ryker and Rayner, having emerged from a storage room from which they had each taken a bottle of rare and valuable wine, continued the game of one-upsmanship when they reached the next room on their route, another sitting-room containing one small jeweled goblet that Ryker tossed into his loot bag.

The give-and-take stopped at the end of the hall, when the thieves suddenly became alerted to a voice humming and muttering as it approached from the corridor leading down the opposite end of the manor. Harlan grabbed a water arrow and doused the nearest torch illuminating that hallway. The guard, however, was close enough that the flame's sudden demise aroused his suspicion. "Who did that?" he inquired to the intruder he somehow expected would answer him. The twins flung themselves against the walls in the darkened hallway, while Harlan sought refuge in the room from which Ryker had just emerged with the last prize. The guard materialized in the hall, but stayed just far back enough that he could not detect the presence of the unwelcome guests. After several minutes of baited breath and pounding hearts, the guard sheathed his sword, sighed in frustration, and blamed the disturbance on a type of rat that apparently had the ability to extinguish torches. As soon as his back was exposed, Rayner crowned the guard with his blackjack, and stuffed his unconscious body into the sitting-room.

The thieves turned the corner and emerged into the next hallway. Once more, they doused the torches burning on the walls as a safety precaution before proceeding down the hall. They noticed three doors leading to various rooms on the wall to their left, and another door leading to the room on their immediate right. Harlan creaked open this door and leaned in to catch a glimpse of a brightly-illuminated kitchen, and a servant facing his direction, but lost in preparing the dish on the table in front of him. Ryker immediately closed the door again while Rayner tiptoed back in the direction from which they had come. Harlan stood to take another peek, but Ryker threw up his hand, ordering him to stop. After several minutes passed by without movement, Ryker once again slowly opened the door. Before long, the cook rotated to another side of the table to work on the next portion of his meal. As he did, Harlan could see another door open on the opposite end of the room, and Rayner emerge behind a similarly occupied domestic. Ryker followed suit from his side, and within seconds, the twins had subdued their prey. Harlan quickly joined his comrades in the kitchen in scouring for unsecured valuables, but while their search turned up plentiful amounts of bread, apples, and cheese, they were unable to locate any gold. "That's alright," Harlan mused out loud, "The music box we came for should be more than enough." The twins nodded in agreement, and they retreated back to the hallway they had just left.

Having examined the kitchen without much luck, Harlan and the twins decided to focus their attention on the rooms down the hallways. "I got these three," Harlan explained. "If I'm not mistaken, there are three rooms exactly like these on the other side of the manor. Those are yours." The twins silently agreed to this plan, and they set off for the rooms on the opposite hallway, by way of the kitchen. Harlan, meanwhile, drew a deep breath and approached the closest of the three doors. He pried it open and stepped inside a small but ornate library, with shelves adorned with books and, from the looks of things, various trinkets for the envy of Lord Pocrates' wealthy visitors. However, as he began to inspect the shelves and desks, he noticed that the customary baubles were curiously missing. He pawed through the litany of papers and books in search of anything that might fetch a price in Douglas' shop, but was unable to recover any significantly valuable pieces. Bewildered and disappointed, he exited the library, and opened the next door in his path.

The next room Harlan entered was similarly elegantly decorated, with Pocrates' blue and brown crest displayed on ornate tapestries adorning the walls, and vases and fine china on fireplaces and shelves. However, as Harlan inspected his loot, he realized that, while beautifully lacquered, these items were made of common, ordinary material, and Douglas would laugh him out of his shop should he pull them out of his loot bag as prized captures. Frustrated, he hurled a vase to the floor, shattering it to pieces, and ran about the room, cutting the tapestries in half, hoping to possibly find a safe or passageway hidden behind one of them. When no such treasure turned up, Harlan stormed out of the room and marched to the final door down the hallway. He flung the door open and wildly began to ransack the area, neglecting to make a thorough casing of the room beforehand. Fortunately, no guards or servants were waiting to greet him, but the room was also equally devoid of valuable loot. A treasure box sat on a desk in the corner, but when Harlan went to open it, he discovered it to be empty. He exited the room shocked and amazed that all three rooms on his side of the lower level did not yield a single treasure.

Harlan opened the door on the other side of the hall, leading out into a massive courtyard that occupied the middle of the mansion. Just as he opened the door, he glimpsed the back of a guard to him, setting off to examine the other side of the yard. He raised his blackjack, dispatched his unaware victim, and deposited him behind a series of bushes and trees in the shadows. As he peered out from around a tree, he noticed a second guard on the opposite end of the yard heading his way. Harlan prepared to set another ambush, but the guard suddenly slumped to the ground, and he could see two figures dragging him to a similar spot across the yard. "Well?" he inquired as the twins emerged into the light in the middle of the yard.

"Nothing," Ryker announced. "We've checked every room down on the floor, and there is not a single trinket worth taking." He and Rayner gazed intently at Harlan, waiting for him to reveal his fortunes.

"There wasn't anything valuable on my side either," Harlan admitted. "This job has been a complete disappointment so far."

"What was Garrett thinking when he set us out on this mission?" Rayner wondered aloud. "Either Douglas gave him some bad info, or we're walking into a trap. Either way, I want to get out of here sooner rather than later."

"As long as the music box is there it should be alright," Harlan reassured him. "Garrett wouldn't set us out on a job like this if the main loot wasn't worth it. The music box is our focus, and we have to concentrate on taking it. I'm sure we'll be rewarded more than enough for it, so whether we grab a bunch of vases and plates won't matter in the end. However, if we come back without it, we will have failed, and we'll get nothing."

"I guess you're right," Rayner muttered. "Let's get going. The music box is on the second floor, and there are no passages to get us there past the guards on the main stairway. We're going to have to find a way to throw those guards off their posts." The thieves peered around the corner to see a large, curved staircase ascending to the second floor, the only means of access to the treasure room. A single guard stood at the base of the steps, and as Harlan and the twins looked upward, they could make out the feet of a second guard at the top. "How are we going to get past these guys?" Rayner inquired. Without a word, Harlan pulled a noisemaker arrow from his quiver and sent it clattering across the room. The commotion alerted both guards, who began circling the immediate area with their swords raised, hurling threats to nobody in particular. Before long, the guard at the bottom of the steps approached the shadows where the thieves were hiding, but was unable to distinguish the dark cloaks hiding the three intruders. As he turned his back once more, Harlan sprung from his position and struck like a cat, rendering another victim unconscious. He dragged the guard into a safe spot and ran into the main hall, halfway up the stairs. His brazen charge into the brightly-lit hall and quick run up the marble staircase instantly alerted the other guard. "Thief!" the sentry shouted. "I'll run you through for sure!" The guard drew his sword, and once again, Harlan found himself running for his life down the stairs and back into the shadows from whence he came. Unlike his other encounters, this one was not an accidental occurrence. With a yell of "Now!", he averted his eyes as one of his companions dropped a flash bomb at the feet of the guard while the other pounced with his blackjack. Ryker quickly disposed of the body in a dark spot under the staircase before the three thieves moved to the top floor unopposed.

The thieves crept through the doorway and onto a balcony overlooking the main hall. They darted from shadow to shadow until the wall gave way to a door. Ryker eased the door open and stepped into a tiny sitting-room. As usual, even this tiny room was bedecked in lavish furniture, ornate carpeting, and fascinating paintings. And as usual in the House of Pocrates, nothing of significant value was available to take. The thieves continued down the balcony until they came to a second door. This time Harlan eased the door open and stepped inside. A fire roared inside a hearth, with another exquisite painting on the wall above. However, the room once again proved barren in the way of potential loot. Harlan emerged from the room dejected and once again began his trek down the corridor. Towards the end of the hall, one final door stood, inviting the thieves to try their luck. By this time, all sense of wonder and anticipation had vanished from the thieves' minds. Harlan nonchalantly flung the door open and, while he made sure to conceal himself as he peered in to avoid a potential meeting with a guard, he slowly trudged into the room once he determined that nobody else was inside. Sure enough, neither guard nor gold awaited him in this sitting-room. As he exited the room, he noticed that the balcony ended a few feet ahead, and had given way to another long hallway consisting of three doors, and a similar hallway on the other side of the balcony. "We'll split up again," he commanded to the twins. "I'll take this hall, and you two double back and see if you can find anything down the other hall. We'll meet up halfway once we clear this area out." The twins nodded their approval before making their way back to the opposite corridor.

As Harlan crept up to the edge of the hallway entrance, he spied a lone guard stationed at his end of the hallway, mere feet from where he stood. Fortunately, this guard held a stationary position, and would be an easy target as long as he did not make any noise. Harlan quickly dispatched the guard via his blackjack, and deposited him in the sitting-room where he last examined. He made his way down the hall until he reached the first door on his journey. He opened the door to a lavish spare bedroom that, upon first glance, would be naturally enticing to any burglar, but once again was oddly deprived of any sort of riches, from the mantelpiece to the tables to the empty box beside the bed to the closet in the corner of the room. He angrily stomped out of the room and down the hall until he arrived at the second room in his path. He once again opened the door and was greeted with an empty spare bedroom, nearly identical to the one he had just emerged from. Identical in furniture design. Identical in extravagant décor. Identical in its solitude. Identical in its refusal to yield any items of worth. Harlan made his way down the corridor, dejection rapidly turning to anger, until he spied the third and final room of the hallway. As he made his way to the door, his eyes also came to rest upon another stationary guard at the end of the corridor. Harlan readied a water arrow and quickly extinguished the torch on the wall behind the guard. The immediate death of the burning torch raised the guard's suspicion, and he began to venture down the hallway towards Harlan. Harlan opened the door and ducked into the room until the guard passed. As soon as he did, a blackjack to the head removed the threat, and Harlan laid his victim across the bed. Once again, a survey of the room showed no items worthy of thievery. Harlan closed the door behind the now-occupied room and emerged into the final hallway at the back of the manor.

At the corner of the hallway, to Harlan's immediate left, a wooden door stood. Harlan edged the door open to reveal an ordinary broom closet, with no immediate danger and certainly no treasures to be taken. Harlan emitted a cry of anguish, only to hear a muffled voice from slightly down the hall. "What was that?" inquired a gruff voice from a room on the opposite side of the corridor. Harlan moved slightly down the hallway and eased the door open. "Huh? Who's there?" the voice once again asked. Harlan peered in to see a guard standing sentry over a room containing a table and a small dish rack. Harlan hurled a flash bomb into the room, and when the white light abated and the guard stumbled around pawing at his eyes, he pounced, rendering the guard unconscious. He closed the door behind him and made a quick survey of the room, once again expecting a fruitless search. This time, however, the table held a single jeweled chalice. The chalice would not fetch a particularly high price; it was a relatively common item on the black market. But to Harlan, after endless frustration, he might as well have stolen the chief prize itself. He stuffed the chalice into his loot bag and stepped back into the hallway, his confidence renewed.

Ryker stood over the unconscious guard, rubbing his blackjack at the point of impact. He almost wanted to roust his victim from his new-found slumber and press him as to the nature of the manner. Why has no room on this floor yielded a single treasure? He and his brother have scoured their end of the corridor, and found three identical bedrooms, none of which contained anything they could bring to Garrett. The twins emerged into the final corridor at the back of the manor, where the treasure room would surely be. The room that would surely make up for the rest of this miserable haul. A door in the corner of the hall opened to reveal the servants' quarters, with several of the help snoring in their rows of bunk beds. The twins scattered moss arrows over the floor and rained blows upon the heads of the servants to prevent any potential disruption before checking their foot lockers. The search turned up the occasional pile of brass coins, and while this loot marked the most successful discovery for the twins in some time, disappointment still overcame Ryker and Rayner, who had hoped to plunder massive riches from the nobility but were instead reduced to pinching pennies from their hapless servants. The brothers carried on down the hall until they arrived at a door on the opposite wall. As Ryker opened it, he peeked inside to spy the long table of the mansion's dining room. As he creaked the door open further, he heard, "Hello? Who's there?" The twins recognized the voice not as the menacing threat of a guard, but the weak apprehension of a domestic. The brothers' eyes met in instant agreement on their strategy. Each thief crouched down and flanked the table, circling toward their victim. As Ryker reached the servant's side, he sprang up to utter terror of the poor manservant. The servant lunged backwards, directly into the path of Rayner's blackjack. Out of habit rather than hope, the twins scoured the room for valuables, and were utterly amazed and delighted when they noticed two glittering gold candlesticks on the table. Each of the twins stuffed one of the candlesticks into his loot bag and hurried back into the hall. Glancing down the corridor, they noticed two large iron doors in the middle of the hallway, each wrought with extravagant ironwork. As they descended upon what they were certain would be the room containing the music box, the loot that would make this entire miserable job worthwhile, they spied a dark figure creeping along the shadows towards the doors from the other end of the hall. Before long, their fellow intruding traveler gave them a wave, and the twins were reunited with Harlan in front of the ornate doors.

"I don't believe this," Harlan greeted his companions. "I actually found one little piece of loot in a spare room, but none of the bedrooms on my side had anything else. What really amazes me is that the rooms themselves are so highly decorated. Expensive carvings, artwork, beautiful carpets, you name it. But not one damn piece of treasure anywhere for a thief to lay his hands on."

"That's exactly how our attempt went," Rayner returned. "A few valuable items here and there, but for all this decorative excess, it is astounding that there is almost nothing laying around to be snatched. Usually, these nobles are so greedy and vain, they will display any ounce of wealth in every acre of the manor. We haven't seen that here tonight."

"It's almost as if the treasures are _supposed_ to be there," Harlan mused, "and for a master thief to miss them, something has to be wrong. Either Pocrates is the cheapest lord in The City, or something happened before we got here."

"Well, as long as we get the music box, we'll be handsomely rewarded," Rayner declared. "Judging by the size and decoration on these doors, one of them has to lead to the treasure room." Rayner pulled on the door, and, to no one's amazement, it was securely locked. He quickly produced his lock picks, and prepared to work on the security mechanism.

"Careful," Harlan warned. "The treasure room is always the most heavily guarded room in the manor. And a lord will not trust his most valuable belongings with a mere horde of half-drunken slobs. It will be the most elite of the force in there ready to slice open any intruder who may come in." With that, Harlan and Ryker readied flash bombs and swords, preparing for the absolute worst: a full-fledged massacre.

"Come to think of it," Ryker interjected, "wouldn't we see some guards standing outside the door too? Right about where we are now? This treasure room seems pretty lightly guarded for me. The more I think about it, the more this seems like a trap."

Rayner took his lock picks to the keyhole, but could not budge the mechanism an inch, no matter which way he tried. As he struggled to maneuver the lock open, Harlan produced his own picks, snuck over to the door to the adjacent room, and tried his own luck. He quickly motioned with his head for the twins to cover him. "It's a tough lock," he announced, "but I think I can get it open." After a minute of toying with the mechanism, the lock gave way and Harlan flung the door open to an opulent master bedroom. A high-vaulted ceiling rested above a bed covered with a plush scarlet canopy. A collection of The City's most popular artists lined the walls surrounding the bed, which was accessible through a set of elaborately-carved white marble stairs that led the way down towards a sunken spot in the middle of the room. The twins canvased the area surrounding the bed, while Harlan searched the mantelpiece on the opposite end of the room. Once again, the thieves were met with disappointment and dejection; expensive statues and furniture were fixed to the floor and walls, but removable items that could fetch a decent price in Douglas' shop were nowhere to be found.

"There's another door over here," Harlan called to the twins as he moved towards the next potential point of entry. "You guys check around the walls on the other side. Garrett says that the nobles like to install hidden passages to get to their treasures. A way of constantly checking on their valuables when the captain of their guard has the only key."

"I don't like this at all," Ryker remarked. "When the master bedroom is empty, you know something has to be wrong. Everything about this feels like a set-up. The sooner we find this music box, the sooner I want to get out of here. Harlan, have you found anything in that room?"

"Wash room," Harlan answered from behind the half-open door. "Nothing at all in here."

"Wait," Ryker whispered from the corner of the room. "This torch might lead to something." Ryker and Harlan joined their comrade in examining the sole unlit torch in the bedroom. "Looks worth a shot," remarked Ryker. "Give it a twist and see what happens." Rayner twisted the torch to the right, and, to the delight of the thieves, a nearby bookcase swung out from the wall, revealing a short tunnel leading to the adjacent room that was previously inaccessible from the main hall. The three men crowded inside and slowly made their way down the passage, until they reached a stone wall with a lever off to the side.

"Remember," Harlan warned, "This room is bound to be loaded with guards, powerful and alert ones at that. Keep in the shadows and pick them off with your arrows as much as you can."

"And if they do spot us from here," Ryker added, "be sure to close the entrance back up. Get them to chase us back into the master bedroom, then we'll slice them up with our swords as they run through." Ryker gave a nod of agreement and threw the switch, causing the previously dead-end wall to swing out into a brightly-lit treasure room with a large pedestal in the middle to display Lord Pocrates' prized music box. The thieves examined the room and were met with a horrendous sight; indeed, no less than seven guards had been stationed inside to keep watch over the music box. However, these seven guards now lay lifeless on the ground, splayed out in various positions. Of the guards that lay face-down, the thieves noticed a bright scarlet line slashed across the backs of their necks. With bows at the ready, Harlan and the twins set hawk eyes on every square inch of the room, all the way up to the rafters. When they were absolutely certain that they were alone, the thieves slowly eased into the room, staying in the small shadows that the walls provided. After a second thorough scoping of the room, the thieves converged in the middle to confirm their deepest fear: the music box was nowhere to be seen.

"Looks like someone beat us to it," Harlan stated. "Now we don't have any payoff for this worthless job. All those empty rooms for nothing."

"Why do you think those rooms were empty?" Rayner observed. "Obviously, someone cleaned this place out before we got here. But judging from all the guards we had to knock out on the way, they must have gone completely undetected before they reached this room. And then...a slaughter."

"Hold on a minute," Ryker said, kneeling to examine the bodies. "None of these guys are dead. They are all just knocked out." Sure enough, the thieves bent down to notice that all the guards still had faint breath in their bodies through their heavy armor, and that their protective helmets bore the distinctive dents of a blackjack. Ryker brushed his hand across the guard's neck, only to discover a red chalky substance that crumbled from his fingers.

"I don't know what's going on here," Rayner exclaimed, "but the longer I stay here, the worse feeling I get. Let's get out of here now!"

With the entire guard force unconscious, the thieves had no difficulty in exiting the manor. They settled in a small courtyard near the side of the mansion, and within minutes, Garrett suddenly materialized, sitting at the top of the wall. "Well," the master implored of his students, "Let's see what you got for me this time."

"Well...we...ah...," the thieves stammered for some time, struggling to find the right words to explain their defeat, until Harlan finally pierced the mumbling dance. "We couldn't get the prize."

"Failure? From all three of you? That is a first."

Garrett's students began to relay the details of their mission, from the sparse treasures to the untouched guards to the missing music box. All the while, Garrett sat with a thoughtful frown on his face, contemplating the young thieves' story. As they began to tell of the unconscious guards in the treasure room, with a red line drawn across their necks, Garrett's good eye lit up in shock and amazement, while his mechanical eye eerily echoed his expression of surprise.

"Him?" Garrett uttered, with a mixture of fascination and loathing. "I didn't think he would show up tonight. And if he knew you guys were after the same loot, your days on these streets would be numbered."


End file.
